


Lecherous Nocturne Excursions - Savior

by R_rated26



Series: Lecherous Nocturne Excursions Collection [4]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Anal, Anal Play, Anal Sex, Angst, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Bondage, Comfort, Complicated - Freeform, Crossroads Deals & Demons, Dean Hates Himself, Dean to the Rescue, Demon Aftermath, Demon Cure, Demon Dean, Demon Dean Winchester, Demon Sex, Drinking, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Fluff, F/M, Face Slapping, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Smut, Force Choking, Hate, Human Dean, Human Dean Winchester, Humiliation, Hurt/Comfort, Non-Consensual Bondage, POV Dean Winchester, POV Female Character, Porn With Plot, Post-Demon Dean Winchester, Rape, Rape Aftermath, Recovery, Rescue, Rescue Missions, Self-Hatred, Situational Humiliation, Smut, Spit As Lube, Suicidal Dean, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Notes, Verbal Abuse, Verbal Humiliation, assrape, chase - Freeform, non-con, saving the girl
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-10
Updated: 2018-03-12
Packaged: 2018-09-23 06:57:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 17
Words: 59,017
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9645335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/R_rated26/pseuds/R_rated26
Summary: See what Demon Dean does to a girl that isn’t worth taking another round in.Just when he’s done with her, Dean hears a suspicious sound and checks it out. A stranger has broken into his home, but when he gets a better look at the intruder, it isn’t a stranger. It’s Sam.Sam has never stopped looking for his brother and now he found him. He intends to capture him and cure him, but then he discovers the used and abused girl in Dean’s bedroom.NEW/UPDATED/ADDEDBack at the bunker, Sam succeeds with curing Dean. The girl, Reed, that Dean raped and Sam saved, has begged Sam to train her in supernatural self-defense.Dean and Reed have their troubles living under the same roof. He's consumed with guilt and remorse. Her blame and anger towards him know no bounds. Will Reed be able to forgive him? More importantly, will Dean ever be able to forgive himself?





	1. Reeling Her In

**Author's Note:**

> This is a request from one of my readers. It’s a spinoff from the original Lecherous Nocturne Excursions :-)

Dean was walking down the main street of the nearest town. He idly thought about how long it had been since the last girl he’d had. Counting in his head, he discovered that it had already been two months since that lovely brunette. He was surprised that he had allowed himself to go this long, but on the other hand, he had just been so satisfied and satiated after her. Perhaps it was time to look around for another.

Then something caught his attention. A beautiful blonde walking towards him on the busy street.

His watchful gaze sucked in every detail as his eyes swept down over her. Her blonde hair was long and same shade as hay. Her eyes were blue as a summer day. Her red painted lips so deliciously full. He hadn't meant looking for a girl right at this second when he thought about finding one, but fate apparently had other ideas. 

She was wearing a beige two-piece suit. The suit jacket was open and under it, she was wearing a white button-down shirt. If you looked closely, you could spot a little white lace underneath it. She was also carrying a large coffee to go. 

It had only taken seconds for him to scrutinize her. In the next second, he had made up his mind. This would be fun. A little chase. He needed a change of scenery. 

Two steps from when they would pass each other, Dean bumped his shoulder into her. Spilled the coffee all over her as he caught her in her arms. She squeaked surprised. "Oh my god. I'm so sorry.” He saw how her hostile expression changed by the genuine apology and close to puppy eyes he was sending her. He straightened her up but kept his hands on her shoulders. "I'm so sorry. I promise I'll pay for the dry cleaning." He infused his tone with the proper amount of guilt and remorse. 

"No. No, it's okay," She started as she looked down at herself to assess the damage. 

"No, I insist. God, I'm so clumsy. Look at your clothes. I have to pay for that." Dean urged sincerely. 

"Oh, well... um..." She bit her full lower lip as she was unsure how to go on. 

"Let me give you my number. I promise I'll even pick it up for you." Dean said as he found a piece of paper and a pen from his pockets. 

"It's really not necessary..." She again tried. His overly willingness to pay and make it up to her was a little overwhelming. Usually, people weren’t that nice and would do almost anything to run from a bill. 

"Yes, it is. It's my fault. Look at you. I've made a mess. It's the least I can do. I feel so bad for ruining your morning..." He gestured towards her clothes and then shook his head as he pretended to feel sorry and embarrassed. He handed her the piece of paper where he had written, 'Dean, the klutz' and his number. 

"Um..." She looked shortly at the paper. "…Dean, it's okay. Take it easy. I'm Reed, by the way." She said with a smile and held her hand forward. 

He took her hand and shook it while he smiled nervously. "Nice to meet you, Reed. Though it wasn't nice for you to meet me." He gestured to her clothes. 

"Don't worry about it. I'll, um, I'll give you a call tonight about the dry cleaning, okay?"

"Okay. It's a date." He said flirty but winked with a big charming smile to tell her he was just joking. 

Her cheeks flushed pink as her eyes dropped to the ground with a stupid smile on her face. "Okay." Again, she bit her full lower lip. “Bye.” 

“Bye.” He smiled before they continued to walk in opposite directions. 

Now he just had to wait… 

 

He made sure his phone wasn’t on silent straight after parting with her. And surely, a little past 8 p.m. that night, his phone rang. 

“Dean,” He said cheerily as he answered the unknown number. 

“Hi. It’s, um, Reed. Are you still determined to pay for the dry cleaning?” She asked a little hesitantly. 

“Of course. It’s the least I can do. That suit looks really expensive and I feel so bad for making you spill coffee all over it. Just tell me when I can pick it up.” He replied earnestly. 

“Um, okay. Well, I’m home tonight, but tomorrow I think I’ll be home around 4 if you have other plans tonight.” She was still a little overwhelmed by his gesture. 

“No, not at all. I’ll come over now if it’s okay.” 

“Okay.” He could hear her smile through the phone. 

She gave him the address and as he promised, he drove to her straight away. Her apartment was only fifteen minutes away. 

When she opened the door, he was ready with one of his charming smiles. “Hi.”

“Hi.” She returned his smile but seemed a little shy. “Here you go.” She had the coffee covered clothes ready. 

“I’ll be back with it tomorrow, okay? After 4?” 

“Yeah, that’ll be great.” She flashed that shy smile again. 

“Awesome. See you tomorrow. Have a good night.” 

“Thanks, you too.” If he wasn’t mistaken, her cheeks had flushed to a light pink. 

 

The next day, he dropped off her clothes early at a dry cleaner, so he would be able to pick it up later that day. 

His plan about making her believe he was just a nice stranger worked so far. It was clear she was already affected by his charisma. A little more effort and she’d reach the point where there was no return. 

This different chase actually made the adrenaline and excitement pump lazily through him. Normally, the chase was much shorter when he picked up the girls at a club or a bar. All this trouble he was going through for Reed wasn’t something he’d do every time, but now and then it was fun enough to change the scenery and prolong the waiting for the prize. Making the victory taste so much sweeter. 

 

After picking up her dry cleaning, he stopped at a shop to buy a simple bouquet with red and white flowers. He didn’t know what kind of flowers it was besides it wasn’t roses. Red roses might be overkill and maybe suggest too much. It was only meant as a thoughtful gift without ulterior motives behind. Or that was how he wanted her to see it. 

When he rang her doorbell, he was ready with her clothes in one hand and the flowers in the other. She opened the door and she smiled. When her eyes saw the bouquet, her cheeks flushed pink. 

“Thank you. You shouldn’t have done that.” She said as he handed her the flowers and her clothes.

“An official apology for the inconvenience,” Dean said sweetly and scratched the back of his head, pretending to be a little shy and nervous too. 

“You’re forgiven.” Reed chuckled. 

“So, uh, do you wanna grab some dinner sometime or something?” Again, he pretended to be the slightly shy gentleman. 

“Dinner sounds fine.” Her cheeks flushed redder as she bit her full lower lip. Dean’s eyes dropped to her lips and he couldn’t help his tongue from running over his own, but then he composed himself. 

“Which day suits you best?”

They agreed that she would come to his house tomorrow for dinner. When he left, he couldn’t help but smirk. It would be so fun to crush that little fantasy she had about the perfect guy. She thought she was going to have a lovely date night, but Dean had other plans. The adrenaline and expectation pumped more profoundly through him. 

 

The next day, his doorbell rang at the stroke of seven. Outside stood Reed. “Hi.” She said with a shy smile. Her eyes swept over Dean. He was wearing a simple button-down green shirt and jeans.

“Hi.” He greeted. 

She was dressed in a beige trench coat. It was open as the summer night was mild and revealed a red knee long dress. The neckline of the dress revealed a little of her cleavage, but not too much. White pearls were glinting around her neck. In her hand, she had a small black purse and she was wearing black ankle boots with a two-inch heel. Her makeup was scarce, only wearing mascara and eyeliner. 

“Come in,” Dean said with a big smile and stepped aside. After closing the door, he took her coat and hung it on the rack. 

“No, just keep them on.” He quickly said as she bowed down to take off her boots. His eyes instantly fell on her ass before she straightened up. 

“Um, okay.” She smiled shyly and tucked a loose strand of her blonde hair behind her ear as she wiped her feet an extra time on the doormat. 

Before Dean followed her into the living room, he locked the door with a key from the inside as silently as possible and stuck the key in his jeans. 

“I hope you’re hungry because I am,” Dean said low and sensually as he stepped closer and let his hand stroke her left cheek gently. 

“I am.” She told him. Her eyes shied away from his and her cheeks flushed that beautiful light pink. 

He leaned closer and pressed his lips to hers. She gave a surprised gasp and then took a step back. “Um, uh, what are you doing?” Reed asked confused. 

“I said I was hungry.” He said firmly with a dirty glint in his eyes. 

The realization dawned on her face. “I’m not just a booty call. What did you expect?” Dean could clearly hear the offend in her stern tone. 

“Really? Because all I did was send you a few smiles, give you a cheap bouquet, and here you are.” He mocked with a smirk. 

“I think I should go,” Reed muttered and headed for the door. By her upper arm, Dean held her back. 

“Let go of me.” She said determined as she tried to shake off his hand. 

“I don’t think so.” He said sternly. It was easy to discern the threat in his voice. His other hand grabbed onto her other upper arm and pressed her back against the wall. 

“No. Stop. What are you doing? Get off me!” She snapped angrily as she tried to remove his hands and get past him. 

Without trouble, his lips found her neck and started kissing her skin. Her hands hit his chest, trying to push him back. 

“Dean, stop! I’m serious. Get the fuck off me!” A desperate note was starting to rise in her voice and he dwelt with it. She had a fighting spirit and wasn’t timid at all, which made it so much more fun. She wouldn’t just bend over and that made it so much more satisfying to make her.


	2. Chapter 2

The taste of her perfume lingered on his lips as he kissed her neck insistently. His body pressed against her to keep her pinned to the wall. Stay trapped by him. He could have made her dinner and afterward made his move, but he had waited long enough now. 

“Get off! No! Get off of me!” Reed groaned, panting with exertion as she still fought to push him away and escape. 

“Oh, come on, you know you want it,” Dean mumbled in her ear before he continued to kiss, suck, and lick her neck. 

“No! No, I’m saying no!” She shouted and banged on his chest. 

In the next second, Dean’s body were flush with hers. Her arms caught between their bodies. He leveled his head, his lips under an inch from hers, but she didn’t stop fighting for a second. Now where she couldn’t use her arms and hands to hit him, her whole body tried to twist and turn in the crevice between the wall and his strong body. 

“Do you think I care?” He sneered. She felt his hot breath on her lips for every word. A hint of fear flashed in her sky-blue eyes as she realized she was tumbling towards the inevitable. His eyes, on the other hand, was filled with a ravenous shade. 

Dean was about to grab her to throw her to the floor when her knee hit him in the crotch. He inhaled sharply and groaned. His stance only a couple of inches bent forward, but the space between them that was created when he took a step back was enough for Reed. She darted past him to the front door, tugging in the handle. To her mortification, she realized it was locked from the inside. Nevertheless, her fingers frantically searched for a way to unlock the door. 

A force from behind smacked her front against the door so hard she groaned as the air was pressed out of her lungs and the handle dug into her stomach. Dean moaned as he pressed her against the wood and rubbed against her ass. By her shoulder, he ripped her around, making her back bang against the wood instead. A frightened scream leaked from her lips. His right hand grabbed her jaw from beneath, slammed the back of her head into the door, and kept the pressure. “That hurt!” He growled. Reed whimpered quietly as her hands tried to pry his away from her jaw. 

“You hurt me. Now I'm gonna hurt you.” He told her low and menacingly. His words made her whimper intensify. “Should I take you here on the floor as a filthy whore or do you want me to take you in the bedroom now that you're the romantic type.” He asked as he moved her head to first one side, then the other as he scrutinized her while trying to decide. “Though all girls like to feel cheap now and then.” He added matter-of-factly. 

His tongue playfully licked her lips. A shudder of fear and disgust coursed through her. “Pout those pretty lips for me.” He demanded before he brutally sealed his lips to hers. 

Her protest died in her mouth as he forced her lips apart by pressing on her cheeks until she whined in pain. His tongue instantly entered her mouth and dominated the kiss. Her right hand found his cheek, dug in her fingernails, and scratched him. Again, he inhaled sharply, then bit her lower lip hard, and broke off the kiss. 

With tears building up in her eyes, she watched in horror as the scratch marks healed in front of her eyes. 

“You know what? I'll have more control over you in the bedroom. You're a feisty little one.” His voice was stern as he decided her fate. 

“No!” She hissed angrily as he grabbed her upper arm and began dragging her towards the bedroom. “No! Let go!” Clenching her hand, she started hitting him anywhere she could reach. His upper arm, shoulder, chest, and side. But he barely noticed it. Her hand latched onto the doorframe of the bedroom. Unfortunately, she was only able to hold on for a few seconds as he yanked her violently towards him. Reed used the force to turn around and slap him. Dean’s head was jerked an inch to the side. When he lifted his gaze, he fixed her with an irate stare. 

“You shouldn’t have done that.” He growled in a low voice. Pulling his right hand back, he slapped her cheek and let go of her arm at the same time, making her fall to the floor with a surprised scream. He slammed the bedroom door and was over her again before she could recover. He ripped her to her back and straddled her waist, capturing her elbows under his knees. 

Reed twisted and turned underneath him to throw him off with her legs kicking wildly. The desperation filled her more and more, making a couple of tears leave her eyes. 

He slapped her two times and then instantly backhanded her with a grunt of exertion. A sob got pushed over her lips at that last slap. His hits had radiated through her skull and made an uncomfortable stinging and heat cover her cheeks. 

One of his hands reached under his thigh to pull up her red dress. Getting a hold of her panties, he began tugging them down. Again, Reed did everything in her power to throw him off, but he was just too heavy and too strong. 

When the panties were down to her knees, he withdrew his hand only to grope her breasts. He squeezed them crudely. “Oh, they feel good.” He smirked satisfied. “Let’s see if they look as good as they feel.” His hands grabbed the neckline of her dress, and with a grunt, he tore it apart. Deftly, he pushed her lace bra down, revealing her breasts to him. Leaning forward, he let his tongue run between them. His hands still had a firm grasp of them. 

“Get off me! No, stop! Get off me, _please_ …” Her tone grew frailer for every word. A part of her knew she had lost this fight, but she wouldn’t give up even though she was desperate now. 

By her plea, Dean’s head snapped up. “Oh, yes. Beg me.” He demanded as he grabbed her jaw to make her look at him. “Begging really suits you after the fight you’ve put up.” He smiled fiendishly as he mocked her. 

A stifled sob spilled from her lips, past her clenched teeth. Her sight was completely blurred by the tears she fought to hold back. Crying wouldn’t help. 

“Come on, you can do it. Beg!” He demanded. When she refused to meet his demand, he bowed down and let his tongue play with one of her nipples. She writhed in discomfort underneath him. He captured her nipple between her teeth and bit it. 

“Ouch! Stop! Let me go! Get off me, you monster!” She screamed fearfully. 

“Oh, baby. You have no idea what kind of monster I am.” He sneered with a dangerous note in his voice and a lecherous gleam in his eyes. He once again sealed his lips harshly to hers. His hands grabbed her wrists and led them up beside her head, free of his knees, and then laid down between her legs. Taking her wrists in one of his, he reached down and with a little difficulty, pulled her panties all the way off her. With the same hand, he unbuckled his belt, opened his jeans, and pulled them down. 

Finally, his lips released hers and moved to her ear. “Do you think you’re wet?” He asked playfully and licked her cheek. A faint salty taste was to trace on his tongue. She inhaled shakenly as she tried to keep the fear at bay. 

Up until now, she hadn’t cried much. But with the fighting spirit she was putting up, it was actually fun to drag it out a little. This was a different way of dragging it out than when he had tried to capture her in his game. 

“Let’s find out.” He close to sneered as his hand wandered down between her legs. “Hmm…” He mused with slightly pouted lips. 

“No! Get your hands away from me!” Reed twitched when she felt his fingers probing between her legs. As she couldn’t close her legs, she tried to flee the only way she could. Upwards. With her legs, she tried to push herself away from him, but his bruising grip on her wrists held her back. 

Dean withdrew his hand only to spit in it and gave her an open palm slap directly on her sex. She cried out in surprise and pain of the stinging. He rubbed her firmly before pushing two fingers into her and stirred roughly. 

“Stop. Please just stop!” Reed cried helplessly. The fear shone through in her voice. “Stop! Stop! Please, sto-o-op…” The tears began flowing relentlessly down her cheeks as he grabbed her member and guided himself into her folds. “No-o-o…” She sobbed and broke out in a scream as he pushed deep into her with a profound moan. 

His hand returned to grab her wrist and held them to the floor on each side on her head. He tried to kiss her, but she turned her head to the side, still sobbing. Instead, his teeth latched onto her neck. Her skin muffling each of his grunts. With her shoulder, she tried to push him away as it hurt. The sound of his grunts and moans was sickening to her. 

He was thrusting slowly, but vicious and mercilessly into her. The carpet scraped her exposed skin for every one of his hard thrust, which made her voice break as she screamed without a stop, “No! No! Stop! No! Stop it, please! I beg you! Stop!” 

Dean licked his way up to her cheek, and then nipped her earlobe. “Oh, fucking without a condom feels so good.” He moaned mockingly into her ear. “But I know something that’ll feel even better.” He said indecipherable and held still deep inside her. Leaning back, he looked down on her. She shook her head while sobbing quietly. “No…” She whispered tearfully even though she didn’t know what he was planning to do. 

“Yes,” Dean told her sternly. Slowly, he pulled completely out of her and lifted his weight off her. As soon as he loosened his grip around her wrists, she yanked them out of his grip and crawled backward. Reed had just turned to her stomach, hastily crawling away on all fours when Dean latched onto her waist and pulled her back. She screamed loudly as her nails dug into the carpet, but he was too strong, and she felt how three of her nails broke. 

Just as he pulled her back to him, he got on his knees. His right arm wrapped around her waist and dragged her with him as he stood up. Her feet left the floor as he lifted her and threw her on the bed. He conjured up a pair of handcuffs from under the bed and deftly captured her left hand. Fruitlessly, she tried to pull the cuffs out of his grip, but it was useless. He simply yanked her forward by her cuffed hand, making her tumble forward into him. With ease, he cuffed her right hand and then chained her to the headboard. 

“No…” Reed sobbed as she with futility tugged in her cuffs. With his hands on her back, he pushed her down on her stomach and crawled onto the bed. His knees spread her legs. “Get that ass up in the air.” His command was unnecessary as his hands grabbed her waist and lifted her. After shoving two pillows under her, he released her. 

He pulled her dress up and smacked her ass. Momentarily, she stopped her tugging in the handcuffs as she flinched and exclaimed her pain. 

“No! Get off! Stop! Fucking stop! Get off or I’ll fucking kill you!” Reed hissed furiously as he leaned over her. His body now flush with hers. 

“Threats? How cute.” Dean chuckled demeaning as his right hand wrapped over her mouth. “Tell me something. Have you ever had a dick up your ass?” He asked condescendingly. Frantically, Reed shook her head. Dean’s hand muffled her denying and protesting words. 

“What’s the matter, baby? Are you a virgin in the ass? Do you want me to take your ass-virginity?” He chuckled expectantly. “Well, baby, I’m about to whether you like it or not.” He told her definitively. 

He guided his member to her second hole and pushed deep in, going in all the way to the root of him. Reed’s scream of pain was earsplitting. 

“Oh!” Dean moaned surprised. “That was almost too easy.” He pondered. He pulled almost all the way out of her and then tryingly pushed deep into her again. “Oh, baby,” He chuckled patronizingly before he could continue, “That ass ain’t a virgin.” 

This hole was definitely tighter than her cunt, but not so tight it was close to unbearable. Which was how he liked his asses. 

His hand clamped harder over her mouth to muffle her hysterical scream that was only paused when she heaved in deep breaths through her nose. He hadn't moved inside her yet. “I have some good news and some bad news for you, slut.” He talked directly into her ear to make sure she would hear him over her loud screams. “The good news is that your ass isn’t worth taking another round in. The bad news,” He made a pregnant pause. “Is that I don’t have to take care or be careful with your ass since I’m only gonna rape you once. It’s probably gonna hurt like a bitch, but with that ass, it seems like you’re already used to being fucked in that hole.” 

Though the truth was that she had never tried it before. It hurt now where he was just holding still. But to Dean, it didn’t matter what was the truth. Every ass was different just like pussies. But it was just the perfect opportunity to humiliate her. He didn’t hold back at all when the girl wasn’t worth a blue pill. And he didn’t care about what the reason for that was. 

He pulled back and started thrusting into her just like he had done in her cunt. Slowly pulled back, and then jolting hard and mercilessly into her with savage grunts. 

Reed’s screams sounded like distorted sobs and half-finished protests. Her breathing was more and more obstructed, the more hysterical she became because of the pain and violation of her. Dean removed his hand from her mouth. She took a couple of sharp breaths before breaking out in loud screams again. But he only released her mouth to put his arm around her throat and tightened, cutting off her screams. 

He could feel how she twitched and struggled underneath him. Both for air and to make him stop. “God, all that screaming.” Dean sighed. “This is better. Then you can hear me moan. Though your ass isn’t the best I’ve raped.” There was a hint of disappointment in the last sentence. 

“Oh, I almost forgot…” He stopped his advance into her. 

When his arm loosened around her throat, she started sobbing after sucking in rapid breaths. It hurt so much, but no matter what she did, he was superior. She had fought with everything she got, but it wasn’t enough. And that devastated her. No one had ever violated or abused her like Dean was right in this moment. 

“Stop. Please, stop. Please.” She sobbingly begged him. Now where he held still, she was able to get intelligible words over her lips. 

Dean finally found what he was looking for in his pockets. “So you want me to stop?” He asked sweetly.

“Yes, please. It hurt so much. It hurts…” She cried. 

“I know it hurts, baby.” He said it like it was a comfort. “But on the other hand, with that loose ass, it can’t hurt that much.” He chuckled devilishly. 

“Yes, it does!” She raised her voice in despair. 

“Okay. How about this. You’re gonna tell me that you like it and make me believe it and then I’ll stop?” He spoke calmly as he laid out his offer. 

Reed shook her head and then sniffed. “Okay. Okay.” She accepted her defeat. The defiance and anger in her voice were gone, leaving it dull and flat. “Okay, I’ll do it. Just please stop. I don’t want this.” 

The pain he had caused her up until now, made her tremble lightly as all her muscle were completely stiff. 

“Good. I have to keep going until you convince me, but I’ll be gentle, okay?” He whispered his false promise into her ear in a soothing voice. 

She started shaking her head again, tugging in the cuffs. “Shh. Just say, ‘mmm, it feels so good. I like getting fucked in my ass,’ and then I’ll stop. I promise.” He told her in the same voice. 

Again, she sniffed and inhaled a deep, shaking breath. “Okay,” Her voice trembled and broke over in a sob, but she nodded determinedly. 

She didn’t know if she believed him, but right now, she was ready to do anything to make it end. A part of her wanted to believe him. She denied the part of her that told her that he couldn’t be trusted. 

The object he had retrieved from his pocket was his phone. It was time to get his ‘insurance’ while her ass wasn’t fucked up. He lifted his body from hers and got on his knees. 

“What are you doing?” Reed asked tearfully. 

“Shh. Just making sure I can be gentle to you.” He stroked her thigh. “Okay, baby, now it’s time.” He did as he promised, he was gentle. Pulled utterly slowly out of her. The relief washed over her as he pulled back and paused for a couple of seconds, but then he started his advance into her just as slowly as when he had exited her. 

She tried to build a moan, but it came out as a whimper. It still hurt so much she gritted her teeth together, though it was a little better like this. “I…” She trailed off. Now that she was about to say it, it was much harder than she had imagined. The shame overwhelmed her as she played the line in her head. 

Dean had found the camera on his phone but hadn't started recording yet. He would wait until the right moment. 

Again, Reed gave moaning a try, but it still sounded like a whimper. Maybe because the tears were still running down her cheeks. The next time he pulled back, she mustered everything she had and conjured up a real moan. 

Now Dean started recording. “What is it, baby? Do you like it?” Dean asked sweetly. 

She nodded and produced another moan. “Yes…” She stopped before her voice broke, then lowered her voice to a whisper. “I like it… it feels good…” 

Dean pointed his phone at her behind. “You like having me in your ass?” He asked lustfully.

“Yes…” She moaned. 

Dean decided that this was enough, so he stopped the recording. He had to admit that she agreed to it fairly easily, and she had pretty quickly made a convincing act. 

Leaning over her, he stroked her hair, “Such a good girl.” He praised her and pulled completely out of her ass. Reed whimpered of relief when the pressure disappeared. The pain decreased, but it was a much slower process, though it got more bearable by the second. 

“You were so good.” He cooed and kissed her wet cheek. “Now I wanna show you something.” He held the phone in front of her and pressed play. Reed gasped in horror. 

“No…” She whispered. She had thought his demand was odd, but she had never expected this. She had thought that he had demanded it because it would please him and get him off on some level. But this… oh god, no. 

“You look so good, don’t you think?” His free hand grabbed her jaw to make sure she kept watching the video when she tried to look away. 

When it was over, he played it from the beginning again. “Listen to how you moan. You like it, you little slut. Mmm, you’re a little filthy whore, aren’t you? I bet you’ve let so many guys into all three of your holes. So, how much do you charge for fucking your ass? 50 bucks? Nah, that’s too expensive. That ass isn’t worth 50 bucks. More like 20 and that’s still a stretch, actually. I’ll give you 10, okay? That’s what I think your ass is worth. Your little dirty cunt is almost worth more than your ass. You must really have some special trick with that pretty little mouth of yours if you’re a full time whore, otherwise, you really wouldn’t be able to earn a living just with your cunt and ass.” While he demeaned and taunted her, he fished his wallet out of the back pocket of his jeans. He found a $10 bill and let it trace over her lips before he tucked it down in her bra. 

Reed was too shocked to do anything but sob quietly. She felt defeated, broken, and so tired. She wanted to curl up and hide away from the world. She just wanted him to stop and leave her alone. She had given up. That’s why she couldn’t find the strength to stop or respond to his condescending monolog. 

“So now I’ve paid you 10 bucks,” He told her slyly, pausing to see if she would figure it out by herself. When it didn’t look like she got the hint, he continued, “10 bucks means a whole ride in your ass and I’ve only gotten a half. I want full value for my money.” He taunted menacingly. 

She gasped loudly as the meaning of his words dawned on her. “No. No, please don’t. Please. I don’t want to anymore. I can’t. Please, don’t do this. Please…” Hectically she shook her head. Her words became more distorted and unintelligible as she started sobbing. 

“I want a full ride for my money, you filthy whore. Besides, what are you gonna do? Hmm? You can’t fight me. You’re chained to my bed. I’m lying on top of you. Your panties are on the floor and my dick is rubbing against your ass. You feel that?” He rubbed harder against her, making his member poke her hole. “You came here willingly. And if you try to tell anyone that you didn’t want me to fuck you, I’ll simply show them this little video where you beg for my dick in your ass. Yeah, that’s right. There’s _nothing_ you can do. Nothing besides bending over and taking it.” The blood was now pounding wildly through his member. Though her ass wasn’t exquisite, it would still be better than jacking off. His condescending and mocking of her had really turned him on now. 

He threw his phone to the floor and wrapped his arm around her throat without applying pressure. His free hand grabbed his member and guided himself into her ass again. “Oh, yes.” He moaned as he glided deep into her. Her scream was cut short as his arm tightened around her throat. “I’m raping you. Fuck yes. I’m raping your ass, and you’ll never be able to tell anyone. I have the video, remember? Both you and I know that I’m fucking raping you right now, but no one else will ever know.” He moved slowly and gently like when he had recorded her as he spoke low and threatening into her ear.

Suddenly, he hammered harshly into her. A small sound leaked over her lips even though he was still choking her. “Okay, baby, time to finish this.” He growled as he started thrusting fast and brutally into her. Quickly his moans turned into grunts and his breathing became panting. Sweat started to cover him as it had already covered Reed for quite some time now because of her struggling. His arm around her throat opened and closed rhythmically. 

Her head was starting to spin because of the choking. Being trapped like this, cuffed, him on top of her, and his arm choking her made her feel so unbelievably powerless. She had fought with everything she got and it wasn’t enough. She was inadequate. She felt cheap and naive for falling for his act. And now she was paying the price. 

“How does it feel to be wet?” He taunted. “How does it feel to be wet in the ass? Or are you just bleeding?” Dean panted into her ear. His tempo into her upped even though she thought it was impossible. The pain was like nothing else she had felt before. It was scorching, affecting her whole body. 

“Oh, I’m close. Mmm, it’s gonna be so good to come in your ass. And I’m not wearing a condom. I’m gonna dirty your ass up. I’m so gonna fill your ass, you filthy whore.” Dean panted through clenched teeth as he chased his release. 

The shame of being used and humiliated like this heated her wet cheeks. He released her throat and her screams. “Scream all you want, baby. No one can hear you beside me. And you know what? I’m a monster, just like you said. Yeah, I’m a demon and I’m raping your ass so hard right now and I’m gonna come so deep and hard inside your bleeding whore ass. Oh, fuck yes, I’m coming inside you, you cheap whore!” He gave her three hard and savage thrusts into her with animalistic grunts as he came and released deep inside her. “Aaah, fuck yes.” He sighed contentedly and wiped his sweaty forehead on her shoulder.

Reed’s screams died to an agonizing sob. She was filled with shame and she felt _so used_. And dirty. She felt so dirty that she was sure she would never be washed clean again. She was stained and tainted by him. 

Dean pulled out with a small moan. “Thanks for the fuck.” He said full of taunt as he smacked her ass. 

She yelped and jolted, which made his load spill out of her. She shrunk and writhed in discomfort and pain. 

He crawled off the bed and closed his jeans. “Can you feel my load running out of you? Gotta say it looks fucking good. I think I’m gonna watch your dirty whore ass for a bit before I let you go.” 

She flinched when he pinched her butt cheek as he enjoyed the sight in front of him. She looked like a mess. Her dress was torn, her hair looked literally like a haystack. Her mascara and eyeliner were smeared under her eyes and down her cheeks. But her ass was what looked best, even though it wasn’t the best he had tried. It was all red and widened, and out of her ran his thick load that had a pinkish color because of the blood. 

Dean had just lounged himself across the bed to watch her when he heard a sound before he could even find his cigarette pack. Reed didn’t seem to notice, she was sobbing incessantly. 

He straightened up, carefully listening as he found a knife from under the bed. By her hair, he yanked Reed’s head back from the pillow it was buried in, and put the knife to her throat. She shivered when she felt the cold steel on her skin. “Be fucking quiet or I’m gonna slice you like the pig you are.” He hissed quietly in her ear. 

She bit her quivering lower lip to try to lessen the string of sobs. She sniffed and whimpered weakly. He accepted her pathetic try and let go of her. 

In front of the bedroom door, he stopped. Faintly, he heard the lock of the door click, then careful footsteps. 

Who the fuck dared to break into his house? Whoever it was, was gonna be dead in a matter of minutes. He tightened his grip on the knife before ripping the door open.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember to check the cover I made for this in the summary ;-)

Dean stopped halfway through a leap towards the intruder that were alert enough to already have taken a defensive stance. “Well, hiya, Sam.” He smirked in a tone that revealed how displeased he was to see his brother. “I suggest you get out of my house before someone gets hurt. And that someone is you if you haven't figured that out yet.” When Sam didn’t show any intentions on either getting the hell out or answering, Dean continued, “Who winged you?” He asked like he didn’t care. 

“Does it matter?” Sam asked sternly, but there was a ring of emotions right beneath that confident tone. Dean could see how Sam’s knuckles turned white as he tightened his grip on the demon-killing knife he was holding in his hand. 

“Not really.” Dean shrugged. “I told you to let me go.” He warned. 

“You know I can't do that. Come back to the bunker with me.” The first sentence was full of determination, the second his prayer shined through in his voice. 

“Why?” Dean sneered with a ring of scorn. 

“Because I want to cure you,” Sam said slowly but determined like he wanted to make sure Dean understood every one of his words. 

“Cure me?” Dean scoffed. 

“Yeah, exactly.” The hope was easy to trace underneath Sam’s tough façade. His eyes had a hint of that puppy eye look he thought he could melt the world with. 

“You gotta be kidding me. I don’t _want_ to be cured.” Dean mocked. “Ever!” He yelled as he launched himself towards Sam. 

From his inner pocket, Sam quickly drew a bottle and sprayed Dean in the face. Making Dean tumble a step back as the holy water sizzled his skin. Before Dean could recover, Sam had pushed him backward into the dining table. A moment before his back hit the tabletop, he had swung his knife and cut Sam’s left upper arm. 

Dean fell back with such a force, the table legs gave in and the table shattered in hundreds of pieces. 

“Dean, you don’t have to do this!” Sam yelled as Dean got to his feet with a furious glint in his eyes. 

“I’m gonna rip your fucking throat out with my teeth!” Dean sneered as he charged him again. 

Sam parried Dean’s knife to the right with his own, but Dean was quick to hurl his shoulder into Sam’s chest, sending them both over the backrest of the couch. They tumbled to the floor on the other side of it. 

Dean landed halfway on top of Sam. He raised his hand with the knife, ready to stab him in the heart, when Sam’s forearm knocked Dean’s hand out off course, making the blade dig deep into the floor next to Sam’s head instead. 

Sam got a hold of the bottle with holy water that had fallen out of his hand and sprayed Dean in the face again. Groaning with pain, he fell to his back as the holy water burned into his skin. Just as he recovered, something clicked around his left wrist. 

Dean’s eyes whipped to his wrist. It was the handcuffs with binding sigils engraved. The short second Dean had removed his focus from Sam, gave him the chance to hit Dean in the face with the shaft of the knife. Dean’s own knife was still buried in the floor. 

Dean groaned again and fell back with blood pouring out of his nose. Though it didn’t take many seconds for it to stop. Sam held the knife to Dean’s throat. He felt how the blade dug into his skin, nearly going through the outer layer. 

Dean looked from the knife to his brother’s eyes. “Do it.” He encouraged arrogantly. He could see the fear hidden deep in Sam’s eyes and he knew him well enough to know he didn’t have what it took. 

“No!” Sam hissed and hit him again with the shaft of the knife, which gave him the time he needed to capture Dean’s other wrist in the cuffs. 

“Stop! It’s over! We know how to cure demons, remember?” Sam tried to reason with his brother, but to be on the safe side, he placed his knee on his chest to keep him down, again with the knife to his throat. 

“A little Latin, a lot of blood. It rings a bell. Did you ever stop to think that if I wanted to be cured, I wouldn't have bailed?” Dean spat angrily. 

“That was Crowley.” Sam insisted. 

“It really wasn’t.” Dean mocked. 

“It doesn’t matter. Whatever went down, whatever happened, we will fix it.” Still determined to convince his brother that there was a way out of this. 

“Will we?” Dean scoffed with a scornful chuckle. “I’m not walking out that door with you. I'm just not. So, what are you gonna do? Are you gonna kill me?” 

“No,” Sam said clearly and Dean could easily see that he meant it. Sam really was naive right through the bone. 

“Why? You don’t know what I’ve done. I might have it coming.” Dean mocked, hoping he could provoke his brother. 

“Well, I don’t care.” Sam again put up that determined tone like it was a defense. 

“You should.” Dean snapped. 

“You’re my brother. And I’m here to take you home and cure you. You’re the one in cuffs and I say we’re going home!” Sam yelled that last sentence in Dean’s face.

“I think you should ask that little slut what I’ve done to her.” A cruel smirk spread on Dean’s lips, flashing his white teeth in a sneer. 

“What are you talking about?” Sam asked confused. 

 

Reed heard voices from the other room and then the ruckus started. A loud bang and something breaking made her flinch and whimper. Dean’s threat about slitting her throat was still too clear in her mind for her to do anything but curl herself up in the most protective posture she could. But then she heard a man yelling, “You’re the one in cuffs and I say we’re going home!”

It wasn’t Dean’s voice. That meant it must be the intruder. Up until now, she had only heard two voices. That meant Dean was probably the one in cuffs. A wave of relief washed over her. 

With the lump in her throat, she could barely talk. A few sobs came over her lips before she, in a fragile voice cried, “Help… please… I’m in here…” 

A minute later, a man she had never seen before entered the room. He was ridiculously tall and had half long brown hair. In his hand, he was holding a knife, in the other, he had a firm grip on the chains to Dean’s handcuffs. Dean looked beyond pissed but hurt. There was blood on his face that had seemed to come from his nose. 

“Please don’t hurt me. Please…” Reed cried and pulled back as far as the cuffs allowed her. 

The man’s mouth opened wide in shock then held the hand with the knife in the air in a surrendering gesture. “I’m not gonna hurt you.” He said earnestly. He dragged Dean with him into the room and made him sit on the floor with his back against the bed while he scolded him. “Dean, what the fuck did you do? Stay there or I’m spraying you with a gallon of holy water.” Then he turned his attention to Reed that was still crying. “Shh. It’s okay. I’m Sam. I’m gonna help you, okay?” 

Reed couldn’t get a word over her lips because of the lump in her throat. The only thing that seeped from her lips was a quiet whimper, so she just nodded. 

Sam examined the cuffs, then looked at the bedside table and around him before his eyes laid on Dean. “Where’s the key?”

“I swallowed it.” Dean made it sound like a dare as he smirked arrogantly. 

Sam clenched his teeth, probably to hold back a snarky comment. From his pocket, he drew a small purse with picking tools. It didn’t take many minutes before she was released from the cuffs. 

Reed rubbed her hurting wrists and unsteadily climbed off the bed with support from Sam. When she stood up, she felt her knees give in underneath her. Sam caught her in her arms at the last second. Her hands clutched onto his jacket as she started sobbing loudly. His comfort and the fact that he had rescued her, made her want to hold on to him and never let go. 

“Stay here for a moment,” Sam said and took a step back as his hands steadied her. 

“No, don’t leave me. Don’t leave me with him.” She sobbed unintelligibly and clung to him again. 

“How cute.” Dean mocked from his place on the floor. “Sammy the savior. But watch out, slut. He’s my brother. You don’t know if he’s just like me.” He sneered arrogantly as he watched Reed, seeing if his words had any effect on her. 

She winced, but Sam’s attitude and trustworthy face and tone made her want to take the chance and hope that he really was her savior. 

“Don’t listen to him. I’ll help you, okay? Don’t worry. You’re safe now. I promise.” Sam quickly told her as his arm protectively laid around her. His words only amplified the feeling that told her it was safe to trust him. 

 

Sam managed to wrap Reed in her coat and a blanket while she clung to his side along with keeping Dean on a short leash. Eventually, he got them both into the Impala. Dean chained to the door on the backseat. Reed in the passenger’s seat, where she curled up like a ball. Though it had taken some effort to convince her to come back with them to the bunker, which was a two-hour drive. But a promise involving an angel that could heal her, made her agree to it. 

A part of her wanted to hide. To disappear. But another part of her didn’t want to be alone and didn’t want to leave the safety Sam’s presence guaranteed. Even if that meant spending two hours in a car with her rapist. Which she was far from satisfied with. But this ‘bunker’ Sam referred to as their home sounded safe too. 

“God, stop your incessant crying,” Dean complained after twenty minutes. 

His comment made Reed flinch. Every second, she was reminded of everything that had happened in the past hours because she couldn’t sit properly. She had to sit sideways on the seat. Her legs were on the seat too, to make herself as small as possible. Constantly, she was aware of Dean sitting behind her. She could feel his cold stare at her neck. 

The tears had streaked down her cheeks nonstop. Even if she wanted to stop, she couldn’t. Every breath hurt. Every little movement hurt. 

“Leave her alone.” Sam snapped. 

“And what if I don’t?” Dean asked provocatively. 

“Then I’m gonna spray you with holy water,” Sam said definitively.

After a couple of minutes, Reed pulled herself enough together to ask, “What does holy water do?” The tears were still silently running down her cheeks, but she was able to keep the sobs at bay and talk past the lump in her throat.

“It harms demons. It hurt and burns them.” Sam explained. Reed sniffed and nodded as a response. 

“Sam might have promised you that you’re safe now, but remember… I’m coming back with you too.” Dean hissed ominously to her. He had leaned forward as much as the cuffs chained to the door allowed him. 

Reed flew forward when she felt his breath move her hair, he was only an inch away from her, unable reach her, but that inch was too close. She whimpered as the fast movement caused her pain. 

A spray in Dean’s face made him throw himself back against the seat. He groaned furiously in pain as the holy water Sam had splashed at him burned his skin. 

“You’re wasting your time, Sam,” Dean growled and tugged in the cuffs. 

“You’ll thank me one day,” Sam said resigned. 

“If you knew what I’ve done you wouldn’t even bother! Why don’t you ask the little slut here what kind of monster I am? Come on, baby. Don’t be shy.” Dean taunted and kicked the backrest, making a fearful little squeak jump from Reed’s lips.

“Come on, tell my brother here how I fucked you!” Dean demanded scornfully and then started to snicker fiendishly. 

The brakes screeched when Sam pulled the Impala into the dirt of the road. He turned around, holding the demon-killing knife to Dean’s throat. “Stop it or I’m gonna bathe you in holy water every minute until we’re back at the bunker.” Sam sneered through clenched teeth. 

“Go fuck yourself, Sam.” Dean snapped with a provoking smirk. 

“You really have gone dark,” Sam whispered. There was a hint of despair in his low tone. 

“You have no idea,” Dean said just as low, but pride saturated his voice.


	4. The Cure

The rest of the drive to the bunker was long and tense, but finally, Reed had been installed in one of the rooms in the bunker while Dean had been tied to a chair in the dungeon with a devil’s trap on the floor underneath. Only left alone for a few minutes until Sam came back with a cooler box with ‘Human Blood’ printed on it.

Definitely blood that was blessed by a priest. Little Sammy really had made all the preparation. Dean absentmindedly wondered for how long he had been ‘equipped’ for this. 

“Really?” Dean asked as he eyed the box with a raised eyebrow. “Are we really doing this?” He asked arrogantly. 

“For whatever it’s worth, I got your blood type,” Sam said calmly as he made the syringes ready. But Dean detected a wary, maybe a hint of doubt in Sam’s tone. 

“Sam, I know you think you can fix me, but did it ever occur to you that maybe I don’t wanna be fixed? Just let me go live my life. I’ve been a demon for so long now. And I _love_ it. I’ve never bothered you and I won’t in the future. So what do you care?” Dean’s voice was filled with condescend as he tried to convince Sam that this was a little boy’s dream of getting his long lost brother back. But the other brother didn’t want to be found. He wanted to remain lost. 

“What do I care?” A sarcastic scoff built in Sam’s throat. He began pouring holy water on the floor around Dean. “Ritum sacrum hanc terram consecro. I care what you’ve been doing.” Sam said in the same breath. 

“That’s fucking adorable. You think I’m gonna sit here like Crowley. Getting all weepy while you shoot me up?” Dean couldn’t help but chuckle but it was without humor. “Well, screw that! I don’t want this!” He yelled with furious black eyes as he tugged in the ropes and cuffs while he bared his teeth at Sam like he was a trapped predator. 

“Yeah, I pretty much figured that out.” Sam sighed. 

“You don’t even know if this is gonna work, do you?” Dean ridiculed scornfully. “You know, I got a hell of a lot more running through me than just demon juice. I’m not like normal demons.” He smiled fiendishly when he saw how his words made Sam waver in his conviction.

“Aha. Buckle up.” A hint of his puppy eyes shone through. Sam couldn’t hide his doubts and Dean could see he was tired of his mocking and pointing out flaws in his master plan. 

Sam had picked up one of the syringes and approached Dean. “Sammy…” He warned as he came closer. “You know I hate shots.” He eyed the syringe suspiciously. Discomfort slithered down his spine. Anxious about the needle. Anxious about what would happen…

“I hate demons,” Sam noted monotonously and took the last step towards Dean. His hand with the syringe raised. 

Dean growled and snapped his teeth at him as he neared, but Sam was ready with the holy water. The sizzling made Dean throw himself back on the chair and then groaned as he felt the syringe penetrate the skin on his forearm. 

His breath increased as he felt how the ball of blood from the syringe stretched his skin. It hurt. At the next second, he felt it dissolve as it seeped deeper into his tissue and he groaned again. 

“We have a whole bunch of these to go. You could make it a lot easier on yourself.” There was a hint of disappointment in Sam’s tone as he walked towards the hidden door. 

Dean was about to talk back on that comment when the blood spread further from the injection point on his arm and hit his bloodstream. Throwing his head back, he screamed as it burned through him like fire. 

 

Reed’s tears had stopped and an empty, hollow feeling had resided in her instead. Sam had told her to wait in a room. There was a bed with a bedside table, a desk, and a closet. And that was it. Everything was in dull colors, even the walls. It was so neutral and impersonal. 

The reason why she focused so much on the interior was mostly to take her mind off the trauma she had been through, how it hurt, that Dean was somewhere in this bunker. But Sam had said he would take care of it. When she had asked how, he had said he would tie him up and make sure there was no way he would escape before he was ‘cured.’ Whatever that meant… 

She was still wrapped in the blanket she had worn in the car. It smelled of him, but though Reed knew it was ridiculous, she felt safer with it wrapped around her. 

A knock on the door made her jolt. The next second Sam peeked into the room. “Cass had some angel-business to take care of. But when he comes back, he’ll heal you. It’ll only be a couple of days, tops. And then I’m gonna get you home, okay?” In his hand, he had a couple of painkillers and a glass of water. Gratefully, she swallowed the painkillers and drank the whole glass. She had a pounding headache. Every muscle in her body hurt, especially her behind… and she was exhausted.

“No. I can't go home.” She spoke quietly and realized how true those words were. 

Sam sat down next to her on the bed with a comforting hand on her back. “What do you mean? Look, Dean will never bother you again. I’ll take care of him, okay?”

“You don’t understand, Sam!” Reed yelled. The panic rose in her and she was sure it was clear on her face. “I _can’t_ go home! Maybe Dean won’t bother me again, but he isn’t the only monster out there! How do you expect me to look out for myself when there are scums like _him_ still out there?” She could see Sam wince when she referred to Dean. “I can’t go home like this! I need to know how to defend myself!” 

Sam tried to calm her, but every time he opened his mouth Reed’s voice got louder and more high-pitched. She needed him to understand. A hysterical note started to rise in her voice too and her eyes filled with tears of desperation as she stood up, but flinched when it hurt. “Sam, you have to teach me how to defend myself against these monsters! I will _never_ be abused by a monster again. Do you hear me? I won’t let it happen! I need you to teach me to make sure it will never happen again! I won't be a victim again!” She was nearly screaming at Sam now. Convinced that she would forever live in fear, for what lurked around the next corner if she didn’t learn supernatural self-defense. She couldn’t go on living with that constant fear hanging over her head. 

“Reed… Reed, calm down. Calm down…” He had stood up too and tried by her upper arms to get her to sit down. 

“No, Sam, you don’t understand! He _raped_ me!” Reed’s voice broke as the tears in her eyes brimmed over. The truth of what he had done to her left a bad taste as the words left her mouth. A sob fought its way through her. 

“I know, but…” Sam was clearly burdened by his brother’s actions and was sorry about what had happened to her. But he needed to understand. 

“You _know_?” She mocked. He didn’t know shit! “He didn’t just rape me! He raped both…” She teared up and a crimson burn spread over her face by the next words she was about to say. The shame already overwhelmed her. “He raped both my… holes, okay? He raped my ass, Sam! And he humiliated and condescended me all the way through it!” Her cheeks burned with shame. The shaking in her voice became more and more evident until she stood sobbing. Saying it out loud made it more real somehow and she hated how she felt. The bile rose in her throat and she swallowed thickly to keep it down. 

It was clear on Sam face how horrified he was by Reed’s confessions. To comfort her, he wrapped his arms around her. “Shh. It’s okay. I’ll teach you, okay?” 

Reed nodded, unable to speak as she still cried, but she felt safe now. Sam’s impressive height added to that and from the inside, she slowly grew calmer. Knowing that she would be soon able to keep the monsters at bay herself.

After a couple of minutes, she had composed herself enough to take a step back and release herself from Sam’s embrace. She sniveled and wiped her nose in the blanket, but her cheeks still burned red-hot. 

“How do you fight demons?” She asked determinedly. 

 

Before Sam had to get back to Dean, Reed now knew about the demon-killing knife, devil’s traps, the anti-possession tattoo, exorcisms, and the cure for demonism. She had written the exorcism down on a piece of paper as Sam recited it for her. 

After he had left, she stared at the paper. She would memorize this, but it wasn’t gonna be right now, she thought as she stood up and walked out the door. Every step hurt and it felt like her knees would give in any minute, but she was curious. 

To her right, she heard Sam’s receding footsteps and followed. They led her through the halls to some storage room of some kind, but when she entered after Sam was out of sight, she saw the back wall of the room was a fake. It was a door to something… She sneaked closer. It looked like a dungeon. Serves him right, she thought. 

“Where were you? Just out of curiosity, what did you do with the little skank?” She nearly flinched as she heard Dean’s mocking voice, but couldn’t see either of them. 

“That isn’t your concern,” Sam answered sternly, but he sounded tired. 

“Isn’t it?” She heard Dean ask. Sam didn’t answer him, so he just continued, “Let me tell you something, don’t go there. She isn’t worth it.” Reed could almost see Dean’s contemptuous face and clenched her teeth so hard her jaw started to hurt. 

“I know what you’ve done…” Sam tried to sound as stern as before, but his voice trembled lightly as he trailed off. 

“Oh, did she tell you? Hmm? Well, let me tell you something else then, her ass wasn’t even worth fucking. Have you ever fucked a good ass, brother? Or aren’t you an ass-man? Well, let me tell you. You know how good a pussy feels. How tight and warm it is. Imagine that ten times amplified. Then you have an ass.” Dean only paused his taunting monolog shortly. Reed had to cover her mouth. She didn’t know if she should cry or scream. Again, her cheeks burned with shame. 

“And if you go in dry at first, it hurts a little bit, but then it’s just so much better when her ass starts to bleed and soothes that rasping sensation.” Dean mercilessly continued. 

“Right now, you’re not my brother. You’re a demon without a conscience.” Sam’s firm voice snapped. 

“Oh, I’m still your brother. I’ve just broken free of such puny things as a conscience and now take what I want. You should try it sometime. Just take what you really crave without caring about anyone than yourself. It’s so freeing. I promise.” 

She had heard enough. Silently, she retreated. Just as their voices faded behind her, a deep, raw scream echoed through the halls and she sprinted the rest of the way to ‘her’ room. 

 

This was the third time Sam came back. The fire in his veins had just cooled from an excruciating blistering to boiling. 

“For all you know, you could be killing me.” Dean snarled, but it wasn’t as threatening as he wanted it to be. His whole body was shaking and a layer of sweat covered him. It sure felt like Sam was killing him because he hadn't felt even the slightest flicker of humanity. No emotions having anything to do with guilt, remorse, or any of that shit. 

“Or you’re just messing with me. Either way, the lore doesn’t say anything about exceptions to the cure.” Sam mercilessly told his brother off. But Dean knew him better than anyone. That tough façade was a shield he put up to deny that Dean might be onto something. 

Dean couldn’t help but laugh at Sam trying to act tough and the bullshit he was rambling off. “’The lore,’” He mocked still chuckling. “Hunters… Men of Letters. What a load of crap it all is.” When Sam didn’t respond, he couldn’t help but provoke him. “Oh, you got nothing?”

“You want me to debate you? This isn’t even the real you I’m talking to.” His words were toneless, but at the end of the sentence, his voice grew resigned. 

“Oh, it’s the real me, all right. The _new_ real me, the me that sees things for what they really are. Whores, sluts. Jackasses that deserves to die. And Winchesters – do-gooders. Trying to fight the natural order. Let me tell you something, guys like me, we _are_ the natural order. It’s the way it was set up.”

“You really wanna tell me a lot of things. But guys like me still got to do what we can.” Sam noted dryly. 

“Don’t be so full of yourself, Sammy.” Dean mocked balefully. “Because, see, from where I’m sitting, there ain’t much difference from what I turned into to what you already are.” He smiled and waited for the words to sink in. 

“And what exactly is that supposed to mean?” Sam tried to act unaffected, but Dean could see he was starting to get under his skin. 

“I know what you did when you went looking for me. I know how far you went. Crowley told me all about it. And let’s not forget how rough you were with girls yourself when you were soulless. Remember that redhead you felt so bad about? What was her name? Tessa, right? She wasn’t down with it all the way, was she?” He could see the pain reflected in Sam’s eyes, so he brutally went on, “Or let’s talk about when you got high on demon blood. Yeah, remind me again how you fucked Ruby while you sucked her blood like a puppy sucking tits.” The pain made him even more ruthless than he already was. Right now, he wanted to hurt Sam the way he was hurting.

“Dean–”

“Oh, I’m not done, Sammy! Tell me how you tortured demons on your little raid to find me. tricked people – humans – to play with crossroads demons just to track your big brother down. So let me ask you… which one of us is really the monster? Hmm? Starting to come back to you now?” A cruel chuckle left Dean as he watched how his words unraveled him bit by bit. “You were trying to get a 20 on Crowley and me from any demon you could snag. But Crowley didn’t want to be found, and no one showed when you summoned. But you found a way, didn’t you, Sam?” He let the unspoken words hang in the air with a smug smirk. 

“I never meant–” Sam started.

“Who cares what you meant?” Dean thundered. “That line that we thought was so clear between us and the things that we hunted ain’t so clear, is it? Wow. You might actually be worse than _me_. Nice work. You proclaim that I ain’t myself because I’m a demon. Were you yourself when you were soulless? More than me, right? And you know it. You walked high on dubious consent and then beat them to make sure they wouldn’t talk. Well, I put the damn sluts out of their misery. It’s more _humane_.” He sneered the last word as he disdainfully taunted him. He reveled in how he was able to pick Sam apart piece by piece. 

Sam walked closer. Dean couldn’t wait to see how he would talk back on that. Or maybe he was gonna hit him. That would definitely be a win if he could provoke him enough to do that. But none of those things happened. In his hand, Sam had concealed a syringe he stabbed Dean in the neck with. He groaned as the fire intensified beyond the blistering. It wasn’t fire running through his veins anymore. It was poison. It infected and ripped through every cell in him. Every muscle was tensed to its limits as he screamed out his pain until he was left heavily panting. “Let me ask you this, Sammy.” Dean began strained, though Sam had already turned his back to him. “If this doesn’t work… we both know what you gotta do to me, right? You got the stomach for that, Sam!?” He yelled the last sentence after his brother as he walked out of the dungeon. 

 

When Sam came to give him the next shot, he simply walked straight up to him, jammed the syringe into his arm, and walked away from Dean’s screaming as the blood rushed through him like a deadly poison. He pulled as hard as he could on the ropes but they didn’t give in. Throwing his head back, his body completely rigid, he gritted his teeth together and groaned out.

Through the fog of pain, he heard Sam from the storage room. The door leading into the dungeon was slightly open, so he couldn’t see Sam. Heavily panting, he listened with pricked ears.

“Cas. When are you coming?” He heard Sam say. He was probably on the phone. “No, not very well. Look, it’s–it’s not like it was with Crowley. Dean’s in pain. I mean, he’s in bad pain.” 

Oh, really? How perceptive of you, Dean mocked in his mind, as he couldn’t get a word over his lips. Every muscle was stiff with pain. 

“Cas… I might be killing him.” He could hear the real concern in Sam’s voice. 

You think, genius? Dean felt like yelling. 

“So… what… should I stop? Cas, did you not hear what I just said? I could be killing my brother.” There was a short pause. “ _Killing_ my brother. Yeah, all right. I’ll, uh, I’ll leave the entry unlocked for you. Just hurry.” 

Dean had to scream again as the pain throbbed through him with renewed force. Tearing him apart until everything was black… 

 

A slap shot him out of the darkness, followed by someone shaking his shoulders more and more. 

“Hey, Dean? Dean! Come back. Come back to me.” Sam’s slightly panicky voice was fuzzy at the beginning but became clearer. 

“No…” Dean groaned. He didn’t know how much more he could take. Certainly, couldn’t take looking into his little brother’s hopeful puppy eyes. 

“You there? Hey? Dean, you okay?” Sam said with a hint of relief.

His voice cut through his head like knives. “Yeah, if you… consider drowning in your own sweat while your blood boils and poisons you as you’re on fire okay.” He mocked weakly. The darkness lurked right at the edge of his consciousness, ready to take a hold on him again any minute. 

“Look, I can't stop doing this,” Sam said determinedly. 

“Sure you can. You just stop. There’s no point in trying to bring your brother back now.” Dean shook his head to clear his mind and keep the darkness at bay. Sam was going to pay for doing this to him. 

“Oh, I _will_ bring him back.” Sam hissed through clenched teeth. 

“In fact, your, uh, guilt-ridden, weight-of-the-world bro has been M.I.A. for quite some time now. But I'm _loving_ the new model. Lean, mean dean.” Slowly, he felt a little strength get back by ridiculing his brother. 

“Right.” Sam cut short. 

“You notice I tried to get as far away from you as possible? Away from your whining, your complaining. I chose the King of Hell over you. Maybe I was just... tired of babysitting you or always having to yank your lame ass out of the fire since forever. Or maybe... maybe it was the fact that my mother would still be alive if it weren’t for you. That your very existence sucked the life out of my life.” Dean sneered in the most despising, belittling tone he could muster. 

“This isn’t my brother talking.” Sam smiled sarcastically like he could ward the accusations off like that. 

“You never _had_ a brother… just an excuse for not manning up. But guess what? I quit.” He spat on the ground in Sam’s direction. 

“No. No, you don’t. You don't get to quit. We don't get to quit in this family. This family is all we have ever had!” The conviction is Sam’s voice and stance was pathetic. 

“Well, then we got nothing.” Dean chuckled scornfully. 

“Would you say that to dad?” Sam asked gravely. 

“Dad? Oh, _there’s_ a prize. Here's a man who brainwashed us into wasting our lives fighting his losing battle.” Dean taunted, his energy was only held up by how he could taunt his brother. 

Sam picked up a syringe and approached Dean. “Oh. Uuh, is this you manning up?” Dean mocked as he scowled at him.

“This is me yanking _your_ lame ass out of the fire.” Sam snarled through clenched teeth and injected him again. Dean instantly whimpered profoundly as it boiled, burned, pounded through him like a disease. 

“You’re welcome.” Sam snapped as he hurried out the door. 

Dean’s whimper died. It was like he didn’t even have the energy to scream. His breath was panting and strained as he coughed weakly and tasted blood in his mouth. 

 

Reed was in ‘her’ room, lying on the bed trying to memorize the Latin demon exorcism when she heard a loud bang. She frowned, but then returned her attention to the piece of paper. But she had only tried to pronounce the two words, ‘infernalis adversarii,’ when another loud bang could be heard followed by a ruckus that sounded like several heavy objects falling clattering to the floor. 

Her heart jumped into her mouth and her body went stiff. But in a matter of seconds, she had fought her anxiety and slowly got up from the bed. “Sam?” She called as she opened the door and looked up and down the hallway. “Sam? What’s going on?” She tried yelling again before she headed down to the main room. 

Her ear picked up the sound of heavy boots against the floor behind her. Before she could turn around a voice said, “Missed me?” 

Reed gulped as pure fear slithered down her spine.


	5. What Have I Done?

The voice made her turn around and then a scream jumped over her lips as she saw Dean standing less than ten yards from her. By instinct, she threw the blanket she was wrapped in and ran. 

Heavy boots followed her, the panic grabbed her and nearly strangled the life out of her. Her screams echoed in the hallways, “Sam! Help! Help me! Sam, he’s after me!” 

A hand grabbed her hair and yanked her back. Reed would have fallen to the floor if her back hadn't crashed into Dean’s chest. His hand grabbed her jaw and shut her mouth so hard, her teeth clattered together, and her screams were replaced by a loud whimper as she fought to release herself. 

Still, with a grip on her hair and jaw, Dean turned her so he could push her against the wall and pressed the front of his body against hers, cornering her. “What are you doing here, you little slut? Come begging for another round, huh?” He sneered with a devilish smile. His hand let her jaw go only to dig into the torn red dress she was still wearing and pushed her bra down where he started squeezing her breast so hard it hurt. 

Reed drew in a shaking breath to gather herself and started stuttering, “E-exorci… exorcizamus te, uh, o-omnis immune–”

“That’s just fucking adorable. But, baby, that won’t work on me. I’m not possessed.” Dean chuckled. “Actually, I’m so fucking full of human blood nothing will work on me. I escaped those ridiculous cuffs, I walked right through the devil’s trap, hell, I don’t even think holy water will give me so much as a sunburn.” 

“Get away from me! Please… Sam! Sam, help me! please…” Reed screamed and sobbed helplessly as she hit Dean’s chest without a stop, but he stood strong as a rock and she couldn’t move him. The fear and panic made it nearly impossible to breathe. The few pathetic defenses she had already managed to learn was no use against him. As he stood there, he was just too big and strong and she felt that utter powerlessness overwhelm her. It was first now she really noticed that her cheeks were wet from the tears that flooded down her cheeks. 

This wasn’t happening… this wasn’t happening _again_ … She desperately thought. 

“You know what? Scream all you want for my brother. Maybe he’ll join in.” Dean taunted and then pressed his lips harshly to Reeds. His right hand still had a grip on her hair while his left hand moved down and pulled her dress up. 

Her nails dug into his shirt and with futility tried to push him back, her other hand tried to keep her dress down to deny him access. Dean’s kiss was bruising as he kept her trapped between his body and the wall. Then she did the only thing she could think of. Her teeth dug into his lower lip as hard as she could and didn’t let go before Dean retaliated with a fist to her left cheekbone. 

Dean pulled back with a grunt as Reed screamed in pain. He had let go of her hair to punch her and now he grabbed her jaw and pushed her head back so it hit the concrete wall with a thud and a scraping sound reverberated through her skull. 

Dean’s upper lip was raised in a sneer of contempt as a few drops of blood seeped from his lower lip. “You fucking bitch,” He sneered and his eyes gleamed with fury. 

The light suddenly went out. A red warning light filled the corridors and then an alarm started blaring. Echoing eerily through the halls. 

“Oh, the perfect setting.” Dean purred mockingly. “Smart, Sam!” He then turned his head and yelled. “Locking the place down! Doors won't open! I get it!” 

His words made a new wave of panic course through Reed. The doors wouldn’t open? Where was Sam? She was so terrified she couldn’t even open her mouth to scream his name. 

Dean turned his attention back to Reed. Leaned so close to her, she could feel his breath on her lips when he whispered, “You can't escape me,” just loud enough for her to hear over the alarm. His threat slithered down her spine like a cold wind. 

The red light made him look more monstrous than he already was. She was already hyperventilating, her throat was too dry to scream, and her heart galloped against her ribcage. Reed felt her knees give in under her. The only thing keeping her up was Dean’s wise-like grip on her jaw. 

“And here’s the thing, slut. I don’t wanna leave, so the doors can stay locked for all I care. I’m not leaving until I’ve raped you again just for the kicks of watching Sammy’s little shocked face when he finds you with my dick shoved up your ass. Maybe then he’ll stop his pathetic try to _cure me._ ” Dean’s smile was wicked and his eyes dark as he hissed the last words out. Everything about him was amplified by the scarce light. 

Finally, she managed to build a scream in her throat. But it was instantly cut off when Dean wrapped his hand around her throat. Her nails clawed on his arm to get him to release her. He brutally ripped her dress up and started tugging in her panties.

This isn’t happening… this isn’t happening… she screamed in her mind. She couldn’t let it happen again. She _wouldn’t_ be his victim again. Her own hand grabbed around Dean’s throat and she felt how her nails dug deep into his skin while she gasped uselessly for air. Too easily, he slapped her hand away and pushed her panties down to her thighs. 

“Stop! Let her go!” Someone thundered to Reed’s left. Her knees almost gave in under her, but this time it was from relief. Sam was standing with a knife in his left hand and a gun in his right, aiming at Dean. 

Dean quickly ripped Reed in front of him to use her as a shield. Her back was flush with his chest. His hand still laid around her throat, but it had loosened enough so it didn’t cut off her airways anymore. She sucked in a couple of deep breaths before she continued hyperventilating. 

Behind her, an amused chuckle came from Dean. “Look at her, Sam,” Dean urged and let his free hand slide over her chest. He ripped her torn dress aside, so he could push her bra down and bare her breast to Sam. 

Sam eyes didn’t leave Dean’s for a single second, and Reed was relieved by that fact. 

“Come on, get that bad boy out in the open. I know you want to. We could take her together. She has three holes after all.” Dean tried to lure his brother as his hand crudely squeezed Reed’s breast and licked her wet, and now burning red cheek. “Her tears taste so good.” 

It was only Dean’s hand around her throat that prevented her from bending forward and puke her guts out. Though she knew Sam was one of the good guys, Dean was after all his brother. She whimpered and shook her head hectically. 

“I said, let her go!” Sam yelled. His voice was so full of power when it reverberated around them. 

“Oh, by the way, you can, uh, blame yourself for me getting loose. All that blood you pumped into me to make me human, well, the less demon I was, the less the cuffs worked. And that devil’s trap, well, I just walked right across it. It smarted. But still... ” Dean taunted and she felt him shrug. From the corner of her eye, she could see the ridiculing smile he was sending his brother. 

Sam had warily walked three steps closer while Dean had talked. He lowered the gun and put it in a holster. Dean’s only response was to tighten his grip on Reed. 

From Sam’s inner pocket, he drew a bottle and in a second, he had thrown the water on both Dean and Reed. 

“That’s your big move?” Dean mocked. Reed could see Sam clenched his jaw in disappointment, which made the fear reattach its grip on her. It looked exactly as if holy water had been his ‘big move.’ 

“Listen, Dean. We were getting close, okay? I know you're still in there somewhere. Just let Reed go and let me finish the treatments.” Sam tried to convince his brother as he held both hands up in a surrendering position. “Just let Reed go.” He then insisted in a more stern tone. 

“Oh no, I’m holding on to the little slut here. She’s the only thing that keeps you from jumping me with that knife.” Dean tightened his grip on her again, making it harder for Reed to breathe. 

“We’ve gotten this far, Dean. We’re so close. You’re not even healing instantly anymore.” The last sentence was more pointedly as Sam gestured with his eyes towards Dean’s bleeding lip and the scratch marks on his throat and arm. Reed admired that Sam’s gaze didn’t for one second take a peek at her bared breast. 

“You act like I _want_ to be cured! Personally, I like the disease.” Dean yelled the first sentence. In the second, it was clear he believed every word he was saying. 

“Stop. Just stop, Dean. I don’t wanna use this blade on you.” Sam now begged his brother as he took a defensive stance again with the knife raised. Reed had a suspicion it might be the demon blade. 

The tears still inevitably streaked down Reed’s cheeks. She had no control over it and she whimpered quietly, which quickly morphed into low sobs. She couldn’t take anymore, but she couldn’t get free from Dean’s grip. The safety and relief Sam’s presence had provided were slowly fading, panic was taking over again.

“Oh, that sucks for you, doesn’t it? Because you really mean that.” Dean had found the most condescending voice he could muster. 

“If you don’t let her go and stop fighting, I won't have a choice!” Sam yelled. His composed expression was slowly falling apart. He clutched onto the demon-killing knife so hard Reed could see his knuckles were white even in the red light. It was clear he was about to make a move. 

Reed tried to prepare herself for when Sam would attack Dean. She just had to get out of the way. Her eyes frantically flickered back and forth as she tried to visibly see a way to escape. 

“Sure you will!” Dean nearly laughed. “And I know which one you'll make. Isn’t that right, Sammy? But see… here's the thing. I'm lucky. Oh, hell, I'm blessed. Because there's just enough demon left in me that killing you ain't no choice at all. And when I’m done with you, Sam, I’ll take care of the little slut here.” Dean kissed her right cheek with tongue while he still looked at his brother. Reed could see the obvious disapproval in Sam’s expression as she felt her cheeks heat. 

“You know what, Sam? I’m tired of playing. Let’s finish this game!” Dean yelled the last thing as he threw Reed into the wall. She screamed, but it morphed into a pained yelp when her face scraped down the concrete and she tasted blood in her mouth. 

“Reed! Run!” Sam yelled. 

She didn’t need him to say it twice. Reed staggered to her feet and ran without looking back. Somehow, she managed to pull her panties and bra in place as she ran, though she had no idea where she was going. All she knew was that she had to get away. Far away from Dean. As far as possible! 

At some point, she had an urge to check if someone was following her. So she turned her head while she ran and would have breathed a sigh of relief when she saw the hall was empty if she wasn’t hyperventilating. Rounding a corner, she ran directly into someone. Her first instinct was to scream. A pair of hands grabbed her upper arms to stop her from senselessly beating whoever it was in front of her. 

“You must be Reed.” A deep majestic voice boomed. With a gasp, she stopped fighting and for the first time took a look at the person in front of her. It was a tall, brown-haired man. His eyes were crystal blue and he was wearing a suit and a trench coat. 

Her heart and breath calmed for a second and she nodded as a response to his statement. 

“I’m Castiel. Where’s Sam and Dean?” He demanded to know, but his voice was oddly calm as he set his demand. 

Though Reed had calmed for a second, she was still panting, the tears still brimmed over in her eyes. Without knowing what to say, she simply pointed down the hall she had just come from. 

“Hide that way. Then you’ll be safe.” He instructed and gestured towards the hall he had just come from. He released her shoulders and walked with hasty strides in the direction she had pointed. 

Reed took a deep shaking breath. Castiel… The information dawned in her mind. Sam had said he was an angel. After her encounter with Dean, she was ready to believe anything. But the way he talked… like he was from another time along with his ridiculously deep voice and those blue eyes. It wasn’t hard to believe Castiel was an angel. 

She shook her head. For a moment, she had forgotten her wild-bore run. Castiel had made her feel safe. Castiel and Sam would handle Dean. She felt a lot calmer, and when she headed in the direction Castiel had pointed, it was in a light jog instead of running for her life. 

The hall led to a main room of some sort. There were endless bookshelves and big tables. From where she stood, she could see a kitchen further ahead. Kitchen meant knives. Big knives and a lot of them. She was definitely hiding in there until it was all over. 

 

Dean heard Reed run away behind him. There would be plenty of time to take care of her later. 

He launched himself towards Sam, but he was ready with the knife and though his face suggested otherwise, he didn’t hesitate to swing it at Dean, so he had to jump a step back. 

Sam swung the knife again and Dean latched onto his forearm with his left. With his right hand, he twisted Sam’s wrist, making him groan out, and pushed him back. Sam stumbled two steps backward. 

“Come on, Sam!” Dean mocked and beckoned him to make another move. In the scarce red light, Dean saw his brother clench his jaw to suppress the unwillingness to engage his brother. 

Fine, if Sam wanted it that way, he would give it to him. 

Dean jumped forward, ready to parry Sam’s hand with the knife. But instead of using the knife against Dean as he had predicted, Sam grabbed onto him and propelled him further into his jump, making him fall to the floor with a furious grunt. 

Dean whipped to his back and kicked. Sweeping Sam’s legs out from under him. With a thud, Sam landed on the floor on his back. Impressively enough Sam still held onto the knife. Before Sam could recover, Dean had thrown himself at him. Clenching his right hand into a fist, he hit Sam in the face two times. As he pulled his fist back for a third blow, Sam held the knife to his throat. 

Dean leaned back as he felt the sharp blade scrape against his skin. “Well, look at you.” He smirked fiendishly. “What are you waiting for, Sammy? Do it. It’s all you.” 

He reveled in how he felt Sam’s hand holding the knife shook lightly. Sam was breathing heavily with blood running out his nose and sending him that god-awful-annoying puppy eye look. But Dean also saw determination form in his eyes. Determination to kill him? Determination to cure him? Honestly, he didn’t care. 

He decided to count to three in his head. Then Sam would have had his chance. 

One, two, three… 

Pulling back, he was able to hit Sam’s arm out of the way and give him an elbow in his face. Before Sam could react, he had grabbed his wrist and knocked the knife out of his hand, making it slide over the floor away from them. “I always knew you didn’t have the guts to do what it takes.” Dean sneered as he pressed his forearm against Sam’s throat. “Now, I have a little trouble deciding what to do. Maybe you can help me out, brother.” He paused to snicker as the plans formed in his head. 

“Either I kill you now and go after… what was her name again?” He bit his lower lip and looked thoughtfully up as he tried to remember. “Reese? You know what? It doesn’t matter. My point was that I could either kill you now and have a little rabbit chase around the bunker after her. Or…” Dean made a pregnant pause as he chuckled cruelly. Slowly his arm was pressing harder and harder on Sam’s throat and his breathing was now strained and rasping. When he coughed, a little blood covered his teeth. 

“Or… I could tie you up and make you watch as I take another round in her ass. You know, all this fighting and blood spilling… it’s all very intense and it makes me kinda horny. Oh, Sam…” Dean couldn’t hold back a laughter so loud it echoed around them. Seeing Sam like this, struggling underneath him, horrified by his words he planned to put into practice, gave him a satisfaction so great, he nearly shivered. He would show Sam exactly what kind of monster he was. That he was far beyond saving. He wanted to make his brother so disgusted with him that he would stop that bullshit-cure-crap and really have a genuine, authentic urge to kill him. “You should see yourself right now. Those puppy eyes could win a fucking prize, but it won’t work on me. Nah-ah. Now I’m gonna choke you until you pass out and when you wake up you’ll be tied up and ready to watch the show of your life starring me and that dirty slut. And there’s nothing you can do because no one’s getting in or out. You made sure of that. It’s just you, the filthy slut, and me.” Beneath him, Sam was uselessly gasping for air. Dean watched as his eyes glazed and lost focus as he was slowly slipping into unconsciousness. 

A pair of arms wrapped around Dean upper body, keeping his arm locked against his sides and dragged him backward. He let out a furious growl as he tried to shake off whoever it was. In front of him, Sam heaved in several deep breaths before he turned to his side and coughed. 

“It’s over. Dean, it’s over.” Cass’ voice sounded behind him. 

“No!” Dean thundered and threw his head back, making it impact with Cass’. At that moment, his arms tightened around Dean and he felt his skin sizzling as his angelic powers suppressed and weakened him. “No!” Dean yelled again, but it quickly morphed into a groan. 

Dean barely saw Sam’s boot before everything was black… 

 

He couldn’t find himself. The only thing he was aware of was the poison running through him. He wanted to scream but couldn’t find his voice. 

The poison burned deadlier and deadlier through him until he was sure it was acid. That was why he couldn’t find his body. Because acid was burning through him, dissolving every cell it touched. Eating him alive bit by bit until there would be nothing left. 

Now it can’t get worse! Dean thought. It felt like his body was being ripped apart at a molecular level. Even if he screamed at the top of his lungs, it wouldn’t be enough to express the unnaturally torturous and excruciating pain. Hell was a freaking botanical garden with bee stings being the worst form of pain compared to this. 

To his relief, it finally decreased. Now I’m dead. For sure. That’s why the pain stopped. Dean kept telling himself. There was no other explanation because as the pain faded, there was only darkness. It felt freeing after what he had just been through. So he opened his arms and welcomed it. 

“What the hell are we doing to him, Cas?” A distorted voice sounded. The way it echoed, it was as if it was coming from the end of a mile long tunnel. 

Then the volume rose and the voice was clearer. It was Sam’s. Then he wasn’t dead after all. “I mean, even after I gave him all that blood, he still said he didn’t want to be cured. That he didn’t want to be human.” 

The freeing darkness that surrounded him began taking form. It was impossible to tell what was going on. Was it leaving? What was happening? 

“Cas, um, did you… did you hear what he said right before you showed up?” It was Sam’s voice again. It sounded like it was coming closer and closer. 

“I… I did.” Now Cass spoke. He cleared his throat uncomfortably before he changed the subject. 

So typical Cas. A socially disabled baby in a trench coat, a part of Dean automatically thought before Cass went on.

“Well, I see his point. You know, only humans can feel real joy, but also such profound pain. This is easier.”

Pain… 

Pain! The darkness took its last form. Flooded him. Drowned him from the inside out. Dean lifted his head, gasping for air, but he couldn’t get enough. Something gripped his insides tight, squeezed the life out of him. 

He barely noticed the water that was thrown in his face. “Welcome back, Dean.” Sam’s voice sounded relieved. 

“What… what have I done?” Dean whispered hardly audible. He felt his body shake as an ice cold wave hit him and froze him into his core. 

Panic ran wildly through him as the memories flickered with the strength of a hurricane in his mind. Again, he gasped as the air around him got deprived from the realization of what had happened… what he had done. The panic formed into despair as remorse and guilt and a shitload of other emotions thundered through him. If he hadn't been sitting down, it would have brought him to his knees. 

“Oh god, what have I done?” Dean whispered with a trembling voice as a tear wetted his cheek.


	6. Chapter 6

Reed heard footsteps and clutched harder onto the two kitchen knives she was holding. The red light and the alarm had stopped a while ago and now the normal lights were back on, but she still had a ringing before her ears. Which made her even more cautious and attentive to the slightest change in her surroundings. 

At first, she wasn’t sure the footsteps led to the kitchen, but now there was no doubt. Her hands shook and she tried with everything in her to keep her breathing under control. Trying to control her galloping heart was a lost cause. 

Standing next to the door leading into the kitchen, she pressed her back against the wall. The footsteps came closer and closer. When they were right outside, Reed jumped forward with both knives raised in the air. 

The man, who the steps belonged to, raised his hands in a gesture of surrender. “It’s okay, Reed. I won't hurt you.” Castiel said. 

The knives fell clanking to the floor and Reed breathed a nearly hysterical sigh of relief. “Where’s Sam?” She asked. Not sure how to form the right question. 

“He’s with Dean.” Even when Castiel spoke short sentences, he managed to sound overly formal. 

“Is he… is he… I-is Dean…” Reed stumbled over the words. 

“Sam succeeded in curing Dean of his demonism,” Castiel told her with a little nod. 

Now Reed couldn’t hold back the tears anymore. But it was tears of relief. It was over. It was finally over. All that time she had been hiding in the kitchen, she had been terrified of Dean getting loose again and coming after her. 

“There, there,” Castiel looked anywhere else but her as he awkwardly patted her shoulder. “Sam told me you needed to be healed.” It wasn’t a question, more of a statement. But Reed decided to nod as a response anyway. 

“Here. Sit down.” Castiel pulled a chair forth after walking past her into the kitchen. 

“I… I can't sit down.” Reed sniveled apologetically. Her behind was still what hurt the most. It was a constant pounding pain. 

Castiel’s brow furrowed deeply. He looked from her to the chair and back again as if he was trying to solve some complicated equation. “Okay. Then I have to hold you. Feeling the powers of an angelic being can be quite overwhelming for a human.” He said as formally as ever as he stepped closer to her and put his arm around her back. 

Reed felt a little uneasy now that he was so close, holding her in his arm. But a part of her told her that she could trust him. He raised his index and middle finger and pressed them against her forehead. She saw a glimpse of a bright white light before she closed her eyes. Her body filled with warmth. Like lying on the beach on Crete where the sun baked down on you and it wasn’t too hot. You just enjoyed it. 

A gust of wind rushed through her like a warm summer breeze. It got stronger, but it was still delightful and enjoyable until it whirled around and disappeared and Reed was back in the kitchen. 

She had gone limp in Castiel’s arm. Blinking a couple of times, she found her foothold and noticed that all the pain and stinging was completely gone. “Thank you, Castiel.” She whispered still a little befuddled over what had just happened. 

Castiel released her when she was stable and took a step back. “You can call me Cass.” He gave her a small formal nod. “Sam instructed me to feed you and take you back to your chambers while he monitors Dean,” Cass stated but didn’t show any intention of doing anything about it. 

Reed had to press her lips together to stifle a chuckle. Cass seemed so awkward and so formal. It wasn’t hard to believe he was an angel, but on the other hand, when he stood like that, it was hard to believe he was. 

As she held back the chuckle, Reed realized it wasn’t only physically she was better. After she opened her eyes after being healed, her cheeks had been dry. For a moment, she managed to push Dean, and what had happened, to the back of her head now where the pain wasn’t a constant reminder. 

 

When Sam had untied him, he had felt like running. Run and never stop. Dean had actually tried, but as soon as he had stood up from the chair, his legs had collapsed under him. Sam had caught him right before his head would have hit the concrete floor. 

None of them said anything when Sam helped him to his room. Dean felt like he couldn’t breathe. His head was one big mess. The memories constantly overwhelmed him and halfway to his room, he didn’t know if it was the memories or his physical weakness that brought him to his knees. 

In his room, Sam talked non-stop, but what was going on in his mind was deafening. It wasn’t until he sat on his bed, he really heard what Sam was saying, “Do you want something to eat? A bacon cheeseburger with fries? Or a sandwich? I think you need burger and fries. And a beer. Right? I’m gonna go get it for you, okay? Cass is here, so just call him if you need anything. Okay? Is that okay, Dean?” 

“It’s fine, Sam.” Dean sighed and waved Sam towards the door. 

“Okay, good. I’ll be right back. I promise.” As soon as the door closed behind him, Dean hid his face in his hands. 

It felt like an iron fist had grabbed his insides and was squeezing the life out of him. The lump in his throat was the size of a basketball. He didn’t know if that was what held the tears at bay or if he did it for Sam. 

He didn’t deserve his brother’s care or compassion. Why was he so kind, and understanding, and worried about him? Sam should have beat the crap out of him. That he deserved. He deserved to be hurting and bleeding, not being coddled. 

Why was he so nice to him after all he had done? Just being with his brother for 24 hours and he had already hurt him so much. 

And then there were all the girls he had… violated… and killed… and all those people he had killed for Crowley… 

It became harder to breathe and something tightened over his chest. 

He had tried so hard to be good. Had fought to be good. Then he became a demon… and all his deepest, darkest desires had surfaced. It had been a relief just to roll with it. Not think about the consequences or if it was right or wrong. And the turn off of emotions had been a plus. 

Now he could see it wasn’t because he had been a demon he had done unforgivable things. It was his nature deep down. There was something wrong with him. Being a demon had just brought it into the light. 

He was breathing in tiny gasps when he heard Sam’s footsteps in the hallway. Dean took a deep breath to try to compose himself before Sam walked in and nearly succeeded. 

Sam stopped in the doorway and frowned, but then put on a smile and put the paper bag with food and a beer in front of him. He even unpacked it for him. Dean looked at the burger and fries, but his appetite was clearly on vacation. To satisfy Sam, he took one of the fries, dipped it in ketchup, and ate it. 

As soon as he had swallowed it, he felt it come back up his throat and swallowed thickly. He was nauseated by himself. It didn’t make it better that Sam sat there with big puppy eyes and cheered for him like a teenage cheerleader with a crush. 

Sam taking care of him like this hurt more than if he had beat the crap out of him. 

“I’m fine, Sam. I just need to rest.” Dean said quietly as he took another one of the fries and dipped it unnecessarily long in the ketchup. 

“Are you sure?” 

“Yeah, just go. I’ll be fine. Thanks.” Please just go, he begged in his mind. 

“Uh, okay. But call if you need anything. I’ll check up on you later, okay?” Sam reluctantly got up. It was clear he didn’t want to leave, but Dean really needed him to. 

“Okay, I will,” Dean said, still dipping the same french fry in ketchup when Sam closed the door. 

“Fuck…” Dean whispered choked. Everything he had held back while Sam had been there overwhelmed him again. It tightened around his chest and his breath came out in short gasps. The despair clawed deep in him. Clenching his jaw, he threw the food to the floor with a grunt. He kicked the chair he had used as a table, knocking it over, it slid across the floor. Dean’s fist hit the wall with another grunt and he felt how the skin was scraped off. Screwing the cap off the beer bottle, he chugged down half of it in one sip before he sank to his knees and hid his face in his arm on the bed where the tears finally came. “What have I done?” He whispered devastated to himself. 

 

Cass had just left Reed’s room. She laid in the bed and was ready to go to sleep after the most challenging and traumatic day of her life when she heard voices right outside her room. 

“How’s he doing?” She heard Cass’ deep voice ask. Quickly and silently, she got on her feet and tiptoed to the door. 

“He’s, uh, he’s still a little out of it, but better, I think. I mean, I think this whole thing… the blood cure and the… all of it… really wrecked him, you know?” Sam said. It was clear to hear his worry. 

Well, Dean should feel bad, Reed thought to herself. He deserves it. 

“Yeah,” Cass simply answered. “Sam, you realize just because he isn’t a demon anymore, the problem isn’t completely solved.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“I mean… Do you remember when I told you that only humans can feel real joy, but also such profound pain?” Cass didn’t wait for an answer before he continued, “You said yourself that he’s, uh, ‘wrecked.’ It might take time to recover from this. And there’s also this girl, Reed.” 

“You’re right. I just hope he gets over it soon. He wasn’t himself. It wasn’t him that did all those horrible things. And about Reed… I promised to teach her to defend herself. What happened with Dean and her… she’s really scared and she just wants to be able to defend herself, that’s all.” Sam explained. 

“I see. But her stay here might have a negative effect on Dean.” Cass noted. 

“I… I know. But, look, Cass. I’m beat, man. One battle at a time, you know. You mind helping me keep an eye on those two?” It was clear to hear the tiredness in Sam’s voice. 

“Yeah.” Cass simply said. Then their footsteps receded. 

Reed crawled back in bed as she played Sam and Cass’ conversation in her head again. ‘Might have a negative effect on Dean?’ What about what Dean’s presence did to her? She knew he was ‘human’ again, but in her head, he would always be the demon that raped her. They say he wasn’t himself. Reed didn’t believe that. Dean was still the one that had done this to her. She didn’t think she could look him in the eyes without blaming him, without seeing what he really was. 

Closing her eyes, she tried to sleep, but it was difficult. The pain was gone and she was grateful for that, but what he had done would never leave her mind. And every time she closed her eyes, she saw Dean… 

 

At some point, Dean dragged himself up from the bed. He didn’t feel better, if anything, he felt worse for every second that passed by. 

On the way to the sink, he drank the rest of the beer. Without looking in the mirror, he splashed some water on his face and then lifted his gaze. He was pale, almost ashen. His eyes were red and everything he didn’t want to see was reflected in his eyes… guilt that was eating him alive. Unbearable remorse. And a shitload of other unsurpassable things he couldn’t even find the words for. His grip on the sink tightened to keep himself upright. 

He couldn’t stand looking at himself anymore, so he turned away from the mirror and sat down on the bed. From the drawer in the bedside table, he took a stack of photos. They were all of Mom, Dad, Sam, and Bobby. He was glad three of them weren’t alive to see him like this. Dad would kill him himself. Maybe he deserved that. Bobby would definitely kick his ass, if not physically, then verbally. And it would be so much better than Sam’s hovering, and coddling, and worrying. 

A knock on the door made him throw the photos back in the drawer and quickly close it. A second later, Cass came in. With a frown, his blue gaze wandered over the floor where the knocked over chair and food was still spread. Then he lifted an eyebrow and his eyes found Dean’s. “You look terrible.” 

“You know, it wouldn’t kill you to lie every now and again.” He tried to joke. If Cass saw how he was struggling, he would run to Sam and then he would never see the end of it. Right now, he wanted to be alone, so he couldn’t drag others down with him. 

“No, it wouldn’t kill me. I just… you…” Cass fought to find a proper response.

“Forget it.” Dean quickly said to put him out of his social misery. “Well, thank you for, um… stepping in when you did…” He didn’t dare to think of the consequences if Cass hadn't gotten inside the bunker before the lockdown. Dean had to suppress a shudder of horror. “What does Sam say? Does he want a divorce?” He mumbled. He actually hoped Sam had said some terrible things about him to Cass or said he wanted to kick his ass or something. 

“I’m sure Sam knows that whatever you said or what you did, that wasn’t really you. It certainly wasn’t _all_ you.” Cass said very formally and diplomatic. 

“I tried to kill him, Cass…” He didn’t mean to say it aloud, but it just happened. It tightened over his chest again when he thought about what he had planned to do with Sam… and Reed.

“Dean, you two have been through so much. Look, you’re brothers. It’d take a lot more than trying to kill Sam to make him want to walk away.” He knew Cass was trying to console him, but it just made it so much worse. 

I didn’t just try to kill him. I’ve done a lot worse things than just trying to kill my brother! Dean wanted to scream. Sam should want to walk away. His brother is a monster that can’t be saved. I’m past saving. Dean thought to himself. 

Instead of saying any of those things, Dean said, “You realize how screwed up our lives are that that even makes sense?” 

A tiny smile formed on Cass’ lips. It was screwed up, but a lot more than both Cass and Sam would admit. 

“I’m glad you’re here, man,” Dean said though he left out a part. _I’m glad you were here to stop me from what I had planned and helped Sam cure me._ Though he hated how he felt right now. He hated himself. He would much rather have continued to be a demon or be dead. This no-man’s-land purgatory in between was just unbearable. 

“Hey,” Cass interrupted his train of thoughts, “maybe you should, um, take some time before you get back to work. Allow yourself to heal. It’s, uh, I don’t know. Timing might be right. For now, it’s quiet out there.” 

Dean nodded. Maybe Cass was right. Healing the physical was the easy part. It would only be a couple of days, a week, tops. The rest… that was a whole other story. 

“And, um, what about… um, Reed?” Dean asked in a small voice without looking at Cass. He just looked at his hands. 

“I healed her. She’s fine.” Cass smiled as he told him the good news. Or it was clear Cass thought it was good news. It probably was. But Dean was sure he had only healed her physically. Would she be fine after what he had done to her? 

Cass left after that and Dean was again alone. He looked at the mess on the floor and decided to clean it up. 

 

Reed couldn’t find a comfortable position and kept tossing and turning until the tiredness overwhelmed her and dragged her into a deep sleep. 

A knock on the door woke her. The room was completely black, even when she heard the door open and close there was no light coming from the hall. With a quickly growing rapid breath, she fumbled for the light switch as she heard heavy boots nearing her bed. 

Just as she found the switch and turned the light on, someone grabbed her wrists and held her down on the bed. A scream jumped from her lips when she saw Dean’s face only inches from hers. 

“You can't escape me.” He whispered with a devilish smile as he licked his upper lip. 

She sat up in the bed with a gasp. Her eyes flickered back and forth and after two excruciating long seconds, she found that she was alone. It was just a nightmare. Dean hadn't really been here.

Luckily, she had slept with the bedside lamp on, so the room was well lit compared to her dream. With her hands, she wiped the sweat from her forehead. She was still panting heavily and her hands trembled a little. A look at the clock told her it was only six in the morning. 

After the nightmare she has just had, she couldn’t go back to sleep. So she decided to find some breakfast. She was almost sure she could remember the way to the kitchen. 

As she stood up and looked down at herself, she realized she didn’t have any clothes. On the way to the closet to see if it, by some kind of miracle, was filled with clothes, she eyed a pile next to the door. It looked like someone had opened the door ajar and placed the stack of clothes for her to find in the morning. There was also a toothbrush on top. 

Reed brushed her teeth, put on the oversized jeans and flannel shirt before she went out to find the kitchen. 

 

After cleaning up, Dean sat down on the edge of his bed. From under it, he grabbed a six-pack, took one of the beers, and put the rest back. He opened it and chugged down the room temperature liquid. Halfway through it, he had to pause to breathe before he emptied it. He took a couple of deep breaths before he undressed and crawled under the covers. 

For a long time, Dean just stared at the ceiling. Wondering how he would ever get a good night’s sleep again after what he had done. 

He thought back on his conversation with Cass. Knowing things were somewhat quiet out there was nice to know. He hadn't even thought about getting back to work or hunting yet. A monster hunting the monsters. He scoffed to himself. 

After a long time, he dared to close his eyes and he immediately fell asleep. 

His eyes flew open and he backed up against the headboard of the bed before he realized he was in his own bed in the bunker. With a tired sigh, he let his hand run over his face and into his hair. As he looked at the clock, he saw it had only been half an hour since he closed his eyes and he sighed again. 

His dream had been filled with blood. There had been a whirlwind of faces. All the people he had harmed and their screams. 

“Shit…” Dean mumbled and slid down under the covers again. He tried to focus on his breathing and calming his heart rate. It took twenty minutes before he closed his eyes again. But they flew open immediately when the nightmare ran on repeat before his inner eye. 

The nightmare had a deeper hold on him than he first thought. As he laid there, it felt like a ton was pressing down on his chest. He could feel the weight, and it made it hard to breathe. 

In turns, he stared at the ceiling and the clock. Watched how the minutes ticked by. He was so tired, exhausted, and worn out, all he wanted was just to sleep, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t close his eyes longer than a blink. 

At 6 a.m., Dean found it acceptable to get up. He wouldn’t want Sam to worry and hover over him more than he already did. Maybe he would just go to the kitchen, find some breakfast, and go back to his room where he could throw it out, so it looked like he was eating something. The bile was constantly in his throat, nauseating him. He was so disgusted with himself there were no words for it. But he would hold up a façade to get Sam off his back. With a groan, Dean rolled out of bed to get dressed. 

Dean put his hand on the handle but hesitated with opening it. Closing his eyes, he took three deep breaths and hoped it was enough to compose himself so he seemed somewhat normal in case Sam was already in the kitchen.


	7. Chapter 7

Reed startled stopped in the doorway to the kitchen. She hadn't expected anyone to be up at this hour, but Sam was already up and making waffles. 

“Morning,” He greeted with a smile. 

“Um, morning. I didn’t really expect anybody else to be awake.” Reed admitted shyly. 

“I mostly get up early,” Sam said with a shrug. 

“Fair enough.” Reed shrugged likewise and started helping Sam. Proudly she recited the first line of the exorcism. Sam told her with an amused smile that now she only missed the last eight sentences. 

Sam and Reed were practicing the second line of the exorcism together when someone entered the kitchen. 

Like a reflex, Reed grabbed a knife from the knife holder and held it in front of her, “Get away from me!” She yelled, but fear made her voice and hand tremble. 

Dean jolted in surprise, but then instantly held his hands up in a surrendering gesture. “What’s she doing here?” He asked Sam clearly confused.

But it was Reed that answered his question, “I’ve asked Sam to train me, so I will never be violated by monsters like you ever again!”

Dean nodded almost imperceptibly, closed his eyes, and uttered a resigned sigh. “Listen, Reed–” He started and took a step forward, but Reed interrupted him. 

“I said, get away from me, you monster!” Her hand holding the knife shook more and more. Tears came to her eyes. 

“Hey, hey,” Sam got over his equal confusion over the quickly escalating situation and tried to ease it. “Reed, the knife isn’t necessary. Come, give it to me.” From the corner of her eye, she saw Sam’s hand reach for the knife. 

“You know what he did to me, Sam,” Reed said in a choked voice. She wanted to scream the words, but the lump in her throat made her voice weak. 

“Yes. But he’s not a demon anymore and… this is actually his home.” Sam clearly tried to reason with her as his hand moved closer to the knife that was pointing at Dean. His hand wrapped around the handle and slowly pulled it out of her grip. First then, she noticed how her heart raced in her chest and her panting had a hysterical wheezing to it. 

“Let me know when the kitchen is asshole-free.” Reed snapped tearfully as she flounced past Dean as fast as she could and ran back to her room. 

 

Dean’s teeth were clenched so hard, his jaw started to hurt when he lowered his arms after Reed had stormed out of the kitchen. 

“I’m sorry, Dean. I would have told you about promising to teach her supernatural self-defense, but–” Sam immediately apologized and again, Dean held his hands up, but this time it was to stop Sam.

“It’s fine.” Dean interrupted him. He felt an urge to get out of there. Away from Sam’s worried gaze constantly following every one of his movements. 

“I’m sorry about what happened. I think s-she’s still upset. I don’t think she understands how the cure really works. I’ll talk to her.” 

“She has the right to be pissed at me after… what I did. I don’t blame her.” Dean said flatly. 

“Um, well… So, it’s okay that she’s stay–” Sam started, but again Dean stopped him mid-sentence. The worry line between Sam’s eyebrows deepened. 

“Yeah, forget it. I’m fine. Can I get some of those waffles?” Dean asked partly to distract Sam. 

“Sure,” Sam smiled like he was relieved that his brother showed signs of a healthy appetite. “With whipped cream and blueberries, just as you like them.” Sam quickly arranged the waffles and placed them in front of Dean who took the plate in his hands, which made Sam’s smile fade. 

“I’m just gonna eat these in my room. Give Reed a chance to get some breakfast as well.” He mumbled the first and best excuse he could think of and turned around. 

“Hey, Dean?” Sam called. 

Dean had to suppress a sigh as he stopped in his tracks. “Yeah?” He only turned halfway around to Sam. 

“Are you… really fine?” Sam asked hesitantly but truly caring. Showing how worried he actually was. 

“Sam, I’m fine. I’m just exhausted. The whole cure-hullabaloo-thing really took a toll on my energy. That’s all.” Dean fought to infuse his tone with the right amount of conviction. 

“Okay. Just know you can talk to me. It isn’t easy being back to your old self after something like that. I can understand.” Sam stared intently at Dean to underline his words and Dean knew he tried to make him understand that whatever it was he could talk to him. But he didn’t need his pity.

“Appreciate it, Sam.” Dean conjured up a smile that felt more like a grimace before he fled the kitchen and hurried to his room. 

When he closed the door behind him, he had to take a couple of deep breaths to get himself under control. 

Seeing Reed in the kitchen had been like a punch in the face with an iron fist. He hadn't counted on her being there. He actually thought Cass had healed her and they had gotten her home safely. Never thought he would see her again. Dean felt a little ambushed. Sam or Cass could easily have dropped that little piece of information that she was staying. 

The more he thought about it, the more he… could understand her motives, and she _should_ be able to defend herself. He didn’t know how he felt about her staying in the bunker for an unknown period of time, though... 

He thought back on what happened in the kitchen after he had overcome the first surprise and feeling of ambush. 

For a few seconds, he got a tiny piece of what he deserved when Reed had yelled at him. And it felt… good. He deserved it. For one breath, he had been able to breathe a bit more freely. But it had been so short and now he was back in the ravine. The walls closing in on him and everything came down over him like an avalanche. 

He had tried to apologize, but she had brutally cut him off. It wasn’t for his own sake he wanted to apologize, but for hers. Dean didn’t want her forgiveness. She should never forgive him for what he had done, but maybe it would make it easier for her to know that he wouldn’t harm her or others and that he was sorry for what he had done to her. 

The tightening over his chest restricted his breathing. He couldn’t bear thinking more about it, so he fought to push it all aside. Dean looked down at his hands still holding the plate with his breakfast. He only looked shortly as the waffles with whipped cream and blueberries before he threw it in the trash. His appetite had left him completely. Instead, he reached under his bed and took a beer. 

 

Reed slammed the door and sank to the floor, sobbing. Being confronted with Dean had been so much worse than she had imagined it would be. Her own reaction was a surprise even to herself. She couldn’t remember having made a conscious decision from the time she saw him and until she held the knife in her hand. It just happened. Usually, she wasn’t violent or outward reacting at all. 

Okay, she had to get herself under control. She took some deep shaking breaths and eventually, the stream of tears quieted down. 

It wasn’t so odd she had reacted the way she did. He was her attacker. It was just her subconscious trying to protect her from another trauma. That was the most logical explanation. 

Reed felt the need to explain this to Sam. To make him understand because she felt a little bad. But she wasn’t going to apologize to Dean. He had it coming. If anything, he should apologize to her. 

No… Dean apologizing to her wouldn’t help. She was sure of it after thinking about it for a couple of minutes. Never having to see him again would help. 

A knock on the door startled her and she jumped at least three feet from the floor. She wiped the last traces of the tears off her cheeks with her sleeve before she opened and saw Sam. 

“The kitchen is, um, free.” He said as he scratched the back of his neck. Not entirely sure how to approach this. It couldn’t be easy for Sam being in the middle between her and Dean. 

“Sounds good,” Reed said with a firm nod and followed suit to the kitchen. 

The silence was slightly awkward. So halfway through their waffles, Reed said, “I’m sorry about earlier. It wasn’t my intention… I didn’t think, it just… happened.” She shrugged and sent him an apologetically smile. 

“Maybe you should say that to Dean,” Sam suggested a bit sharply. 

“Okay, listen. I’m really glad that you’ll teach me some supernatural self-defense, but try to put yourself in my place. He… Dean, he… _abused_ me. He’s my attacker. I know you said he’s ‘cured’ but it’s still _him_. The same face.” Reed couldn’t bring herself to say ‘raped’ again and her voice trembled at the end of the sentence. Her eyes begged Sam to understand. Cass could take the physical pain away, but not the mental scars. 

From his expression, it was clear Sam really tried to understand her point of view. And he took his time before he answered her, “It’s quite a predicament, I know. I suggest you just avoid each other until you can forgive him.” 

“ _Forgive_ him?” Reed exclaimed preposterously. 

“I don’t have any other solution for now. So avoid each other. Don’t be in the same room.” Sam’s tone was firm and it was clear it was an order, so Reed just nodded to let him know she understood. 

A rational or maybe compassionate part of her knew it was Dean’s home and he shouldn’t be kicked to the curb just because she was there. She was the guest. Sam was kind enough to let her stay and teach her. She just had to learn fast, so she could get away from Dean as soon as possible. 

“Do you have a charger for a Samsung?” Reed asked when they had finished their breakfast. 

“Here,” Sam had opened a drawer and pulled out a charger. 

“Thanks. Um, I was thinking, do you have a car I can borrow? I need to get some stuff from my apartment and take care of some practical stuff, so I can stay here a little.” 

“Cass can help you with that.” Sam smiled like there was some sort of joke she didn’t get. 

 

Angels could freaking teleport! Reed sank to her knees on the floor of the living room in her own apartment and thought she would puke her guts out right on the spot. 

“Are you okay?” Cass asked. He was still standing on his feet. Reed couldn’t figure out how he did it. She felt like she had just been hit by a train called motion sickness. 

In the next half hour, Reed gathered only the most necessary. A few sets of clothes, mostly gym clothes. Some toiletries, though she didn’t take any makeup. She wouldn’t need that anyway. Her tablet, a charger for her phone, and a couple of books, and put it all in a medium sized sports bag. She also found some cash as she intended to pay ‘rent’ or whatever to Sam. 

Cass watched her as she stormed back and forth while also overly studying random things in her apartment that normally wouldn’t attract any attention. Like one of her plants, a purple candle, a decorative vase, and so on. 

Reed’s neighbor got a spare key to check her mailbox while she was away. A quick phone call to her work let them know she wouldn’t come for the next few weeks as her mother had become very ill and she needed some time off. After sending a text to her friends and family telling them she suddenly had to go on a business trip to New York, she was ready to go. Was she ready to be teleported again so shortly? Probably not. 

Reed and Cass ended in what would be her room in the bunker for the next few weeks. Again, Reed sank to her knees and then crawled to the trashcan where she puked for real this time. 

 

Dean had barely been human for 24 hours, but it already felt like 24 months. He felt ten years older than yesterday. 

When he heard footsteps in the hall, he quickly hid the beer under the bed, and a second later, he had placed himself casually on the bed and closed his eyes. Someone knocked, and the door opened. 

“Dean? Are you asleep?” Sam whispered. 

“Not anymore.” Dean opened one eye and looked up at his brother. Fittingly, he yawned and rubbed his eyes before he sat up as if he had actually been asleep. 

“I… I wanted to talk to you about Reed.” Sam started like he was a little nervous. 

“Is she okay?” Dean asked instantly. 

“Yeah, Cass healed her, you know. But I wanted to be sure you were really okay with her being here?” Sam was preparing his puppy eyes like he thought he had done something wrong. 

“She should be able to defend herself.” Dean simply said with a shrug. If she had been able to defend herself against him, she would never have been… harmed. He couldn’t think the word. If he did, the bile was going to rise in his throat and it was hard enough to keep it at a distance as it was already. 

“So, you’re fine with her staying for a while?” There was a new sound of hope in his brother’s voice. Dean just nodded. 

“I told her to take it easy and that you should probably stay out of each other’s way. She actually apologized for what happened in the kitchen.” Sam seemed relieved that he didn’t mind the promise he had given Reed. 

“She shouldn’t apologize. I should be the one apologizing, Sam. She has every right to hate me, so just let her. I’m fine.” Even Dean could hear how flat and lifeless his voice sounded, but he still meant what he said. She was entitled to hate him with everything she got for the rest of her life. 

“Maybe wait a little with that. Let her cool down first.” Sam suggested. 

“Okay, I will,” Dean promised. 

After that, Sam left his room and let him be. When he was sure Sam was far enough away, he grabbed the beer from under the bed and emptied it. Opening another, he thought of what had happened when he escaped from the dungeon before he was completely cured. There was one thing that still puzzled him…

 

“Hey, Cass. Hey, Re– hey, what happened?” Sam stopped in the middle of his sentence when he saw Reed on her knees, head-deep in the trashcan. 

“Teleportation sickness,” Cass stated. 

“What he said.” Reed groaned and pointed behind her where she thought Cass stood. 

“Why didn’t you give her any water or anything, Cass? Here you go.” Sam asked annoyed as he filled a glass with water and handed it to Reed. 

Reed took it with a, “Thanks,” and drank the whole thing. She couldn’t help but chuckle at Cass as he stood there and started one sentence after the other without really saying anything as he tried to explain why he hadn't offered her anything. 

“Hey, it’s gone,” Reed said surprised. Her nausea and teleportation/motion sickness had completely vanished. 

“Completely?” Sam asked doubtfully. 

“Apparently,” Reed said as surprised as before and shrugged. 

“Okay, then, have you ever taken any regular self-defense classes?” Sam clapped his hands together and asked with a smile. 

 

She hadn't taken any professional classes. What she knew about self-defense was something she had read on the internet. Go after balls, throat, and eyes. That was about all she knew. 

She changed from the oversized jeans and flannel shirt she had borrowed to a pair of her own sweatpants and a tank top. On her way to the garage where she should meet Sam, she put her blonde hair in a ponytail. When Sam had told her to meet him in the garage, she had thought it was quite odd, but he explained that it would be perfect for training because of the large floor space. 

 

Dean tried to gather the pieces so he could make the puzzle in his head fit. The thing that puzzled him, the thing that didn’t seem to fit was why he had gone after Reed the way he had in the bunker when he had escaped the dungeon. 

Though it hurt to enter his line of thoughts when he was a demon, he did it anyway. Reed hadn't been worth… 

He took a deep breath, clenched his teeth as he held it in, and then exhaled powerfully before he quickly thought it through in his mind: When he was a demon, he wouldn’t have taken another round in her. So why was he so interested in getting to her when he escaped from the dungeon? If he knew his demon-self right – and he did, sadly – he wouldn’t have thought of her twice. 

Then it dawned on him… the last pieces of the puzzle came together. 

The reason he had been so obsessed with Reed still being in the bunker while Sam tried to cure him was to hold on to the demon part. If he… he gulped loudly before even thinking the word… raped her in front of Sam, he would have stopped his treatments and he would have remained a demon. But the truth was that he was so determined to hold on to the demon part because he was trying to keep the human in him away. Because his feelings, his humanity, had begun stirring deep inside of him, and he could feel it. He wanted to keep it at bay and hold on to the demon because the guilt and remorse would crush him. 

And now it was… 

He emptied the beer and hid the bottle under the bed. Dean stopped in front of the door and listened. There was no one in the hallway, so he opened it, and slowly walked to the kitchen. Stopped at every corner and before every door to make sure there was no one in his path. In the kitchen, he grabbed a bottle of vodka and walked back to his room in the same manner he had gotten there. 

The unopened bottle of vodka joined the beers under his bed.


	8. Chapter 8

Three days later, Reed had trained non-stop and was already so good at regular self-defense that Sam had asked Cass to help. 

“Cass you approach her from behind while I’m coming from over here, okay? Go.” Sam instructed. 

Reed bent her knees slightly, ready to parry the attack when Cass made a feint from behind and in a matter of seconds, caught her in a chokehold, and put an angel blade to her throat. She could feel the steel scrape her skin and she gulped loudly. 

“Cass! You have to give her a chance. Do it slowly so she can learn. It’s the first time she’s one against two.” Sam scolded Cass and he immediately let Reed go. 

“I’m sorry, Sam.” Reed said right after Cass had let her go. She bent forward with her hands on her knees as she caught her breath from the surprise of the sudden attack. 

“It’s fine, Reed.” Sam said hastily. 

“Um, but you said to attack her from behind and that is what I did,” Cass said puzzled. Reed had never seen anyone have as deep furrows on their forehead as Cass when he was confused.

“I know, but…” Sam sighed and rubbed his temple with his index and middle finger. “Okay, listen…” Sam involved Cass in a lengthy explanation about the art of teaching. In the meantime, Reed sat down, took a sip of water, and recited the exorcism in her mind as she did almost every free minute of the day. She wanted it to be imprinted in her mind so she would be able to say it in her sleep. 

The last three days, she had managed to avoid Dean completely. Every time she heard his footsteps or saw his shadow, she fled the room or hall. And it suited her fine. If she never had to look at him again, that would be perfect. 

 

Dean rolled out of bed at 1 p.m. His breath was heavy and panting, he was covered in sweat, and his hands trembled as he had just woken from a nightmare. Again, his dreams had been filled with faces and screams. 

Last night he hadn't fallen asleep before the scotch had knocked him out at 6:30 a.m. He let his hands run over his face and into his hair before he stood up and got dressed. 

In front of the door, he listened closely to make sure the hall was clear before he opened the door. He didn’t want Sam to see him like this, and he couldn’t handle facing Reed. Hell, he couldn’t even handle facing himself in the mirror. All he could see was the red eyes, the black circles under his eyes and the several-days-old stubbles. 

To Dean’s satisfaction, he made it to the kitchen without meeting a soul. He made a cup of coffee and snuck back to his room where he spiked it with some scotch from the bottle under his bed. 

During the day, he tried to read, to watch TV, to listen to music, anything to distract himself when he was awake. But whatever he did, the horrors from his nightmares kept invading his mind. For every day, it happened more and more often. Got stronger and stronger, more vivid. It was harder to get free from the trains of thoughts and memories his mind forced down on him like a plastic bag wrapped around his head. Most of the time, Dean sat on his bed staring blankly at the wall while his mind was a seven-lane highway in rush hour. 

 

At 3 a.m., Dean was still awake. He had chugged down enough scotch to partially numb his mind. He didn’t know why, but it was like sleeping was worse when it was dark. It was ridiculous. The bunker was underground. It shouldn’t matter if it was night or day outside, but somehow it did. And that was why he was close to turning his circadian rhythm completely upside down. 

When he felt his eyelids get heavy, threatening to close on him, he stood up. As always, he listened at the door before opening it and walked to the kitchen to make a big cup of black coffee. On the way, he didn’t stop at every corner to listen as he was sure it would be clear, considering how late it was. Or early, depending on how you look at it. Listening at the door had just become a habit. So when he entered the kitchen and saw Reed sitting there, eating a bowl of cereal, he gave a startled jump. 

Reed had raised her blue gaze when he had entered and as she realized it was Dean, her eyes had widened to double size. 

Immediately Dean raised his hands in the air, palms up in a surrendering gesture. “No need for knives. I’m just gonna make a cup of coffee and then I’ll be out of your hair.” He promised tiredly. 

As he had opened his mouth to speak, her eyes had narrowed to slits. Suddenly her eyes, blue like a summer day, had turned to ice. With a loud scoff, she moved to the opposite side of the kitchen as far away from the coffee machine as possible and pretended to be deeply interested in the bowl in front of her. 

The sight of her made something tighten so hard over his chest he nearly lost his breath. For a moment, he didn’t see the kitchen in front of him, but his bedroom at the house and Reed chained to the headboard. He closed his eyes with a deep breath and when he opened them again, the kitchen was all he saw. Dean’s shoulders slumped as he lowered his arms and walked over to the coffee machine. He felt like Reed’s gaze was boring into his back. But when he ventured to peek at her over his shoulder, he saw she was still staring intently at the bowl.  
After a minute in awkward silence, Dean gathered himself with a deep breath and said, “Listen, Reed–”

Dean didn’t get to say anymore before she brutally cut him off in an acerbic voice, “I doubt you have anything worth listening to.” 

Her eyes shot up with a penetrating gaze, causing Dean to stutter slightly when he tried again, “I-I just wanted to tell you that I’m sorry and–” He fell silent once again when Reed stood up. 

“I don’t wanna hear it.” She raised her voice significantly without yelling. “I suddenly lost my appetite.” She snapped and threw the bowl into the sink and fled the room. 

Dean let out a powerful sigh as he hid his face in his hand. 

 

Reed slammed the door as she ran into her room. Leaning against it with a heavy breath, she slowly slid to the floor where she huddled together as the tears brimmed over in her eyes. 

Why wouldn’t he leave her alone? He could just have made his stupid coffee and then scram out of her sight. 

The only reason she had been in the kitchen in the first place at this time of night was because she’d had a nightmare. About _him_. And then he showed up. That didn’t exactly help on the situation. 

As the tears quieted down and her breathing was somehow under control, Reed realized something. Something she had repressed since that night _it_ happened. 

She realized she wasn’t living anymore. She was merely surviving. Now that she finally allowed herself to think more about it and analyzed her life since that night where everything went wrong, she could see everything that was still wrong. 

She was starting to apologize constantly. Even for small things that weren’t even worth a sorry. If Sam folded her hand correctly into a fist, she said sorry because she hadn't gotten it right the first time. If he said, ‘now come stand over here,’ she also said sorry. Why had she started to apologize so fucking much? She had never done that before.

What was wrong with her? 

And she constantly asked Sam if every little movement was right, so he could reassure her she was doing it right, if not, she would apologize again. 

She was on the verge of a breakdown during the smallest of disagreements, and every time Dean’s name was mentioned if Cass and Sam talked about him. Actually, just thinking about him made the hot tears prickle in her eyes once more. Seeing him made the oxygen elude her lungs and a layer of hate, fear, confusion, frustration, and something she couldn’t pinpoint enveloped her and made her hands shake. 

She lied to herself. And Sam and Cass. Saying she was fine. Pretending to be healed completely. Yes, she was healed physically, but that was all. She had become so good at lying and pretending in just a few short days, that she even fooled herself sometimes just until she thought of Dean. Then she was hurled into a panic attack. And Dean intruded her thoughts more than she could count. Even in her dreams. 

She was calculating and overthinking everything from what she did and said, to how she was saying it and at what time, the expression when she was saying something, the tone of her voice. Everything. She was hyperaware of her surroundings. 

She was so tired because she used so much energy on all that. Used energy on _surviving_ , not living. And the lack of sleep because of the nightmares also had a say. She realized everything was a survival strategy because she felt like any day could be her last after being violated by a demon. As often as she could, she thought the word demon and saw a black shapeless and faceless creature, instead of thinking of Dean and see his face. Hear his taunting voice… 

_If there just was a way to heal me on the inside,_ Reed thought to herself. 

 

Reed was right. He didn’t have anything worth listening to. How would a simple apology, no matter how sincere and deep-felt it was, help her in any way? 

He made his coffee and shambled back to his room where he spiked it with scotch. Before he put the cap on, he took a swig directly from the bottle. 

Cass had healed Reed, but from the look he had just seen in her eyes, it was clear it was only the outside he had healed. Dean saw the pain and fear in her cold blue eyes like a faded echo of his own. It still tightened uncomfortably around his chest and it felt as if something also grabbed his insides. 

After finishing his coffee, the cup in his hand was replaced by the bottle of scotch. He couldn’t stop thinking about Reed. Tried to find a way to make it better. To make it easier for her. Sitting on the bedside for a long time, staring at the wall, didn’t provide him with any answers. The only thing he still could come up with was to tell her how deeply sorry he was. 

The more he thought about it, the surer he was that it might help, even if she didn’t think it would. If she would just pause for a minute and let him speak out, it might help or give her closure or what the hell else. The wall was now dancing in front of him and he had to close one of his eyes to make it stand still. 

As he leaned back on the bed, he promised himself he would do what he could to make it better. And the first step was to make her listen to him. 

_Like a freaking 12-step program,_ Dean scoffed to himself and then looked at the bottle in his hand, realizing the irony of it. 

Dean kept drinking until the steely ropes around him loosened enough to allow him to pass out. 

 

“For the ritual, you’ll need a rosary, and then you’ll say this incantation, ‘Exorcizo te, creatura aquae. In nomine dei patris omnipotentis.’ And as long as the water is in contact with the rosary, the water is considered blessed, even water running along pipelines or from water tanks into sprinklers or whatever. Not that you are gonna need that, I hope, but so you understand how it works, okay?” Sam explained while he and Reed were in the kitchen. In front of Reed was a bowl of water, in her right hand was a rosary Sam had given her. 

“I think I get it. Now I just have to memorize some more Latin.” Reed said with a crooked smile. She was still going through the exorcism like a swot and now another couple of Latin sentences could be added to her assiduously studying. 

In her room were several heavy books about demons. Reed knew there were other monsters out there, but from the short introduction Sam had given her a couple of days ago, she still considered demons the biggest threat. Besides, she didn’t train to become a hunter. This was only for her own sake, so she could defend herself. It was like a self-defense study, only with the twist of being supernatural, though Sam had hinted that regular self-defense was a good skill. She didn’t have to think about it for too long before she concurred. 

Sam was so nice. Helping her beyond what she had asked for. He had even tried to turn down the ‘rent’ money she gave him after Cass had teleported her back from her apartment. Forcing Reed to, in the end, stuff it down his pocket and yell, “You touched it last,” like a child before he reluctantly accepted it. 

Like the exorcism, Sam had written the incantation for holy water down on a piece of paper. “Do I put the rosary in the water before or after the Latin?” Reed asked uncertainly as she looked at the items in front of her and then craned her neck far back to be able to look up at Sam. 

“You hold it in your hand until the chant is complete and then drop it into the water, making it holy water,” Sam said calmly and encouraging. 

“O-okay,” Reed stammers nervously. She was afraid that she would pronounce the Latin completely wrong, as she got more insecure for every day that passed, though it should have been the other way around. But she took a deep breath and reached out for the paper with the incantation on the table. 

As she, a little too fast, pulled the paper in front of her, she accidentally pushed the bowl off the counter. Reed gave a surprised shriek as it fell to the floor. It didn’t shatter as it was made from plastic that noisily clattered on the floor, but there was water everywhere.

“Sorry, sorry, sorry. Oh, I’m so clumsy. Sorry, Sam.” Reed apologized in a faint voice. 

“Hey, easy, nothing happened, it was just a bowl of wat–” Sam stopped himself as he looked down at her. The treacherous tears welled up in her blue eyes and her lower lip quivered unmasking before Reed could get a hold of herself. Most times, she succeeded with composing herself before Sam saw it by pretending to remove some sweat in a towel or take a big sip of water, but not this time. This time he caught her. 

“Hey, why’re you crying?” Sam’s tone changed from unperturbed to consoling. 

“I’m sorry,” Reed said automatically in a choked voice. She cleared her throat and blinked her eyes rapidly to get the stupid tears away. But then she got angry with herself. Why was she apologizing for crying? 

“It’s just…” She fell silent as her trembling voice got out of her control. With a deep shaky breath, she closed her eyes and swallowed thickly. “Since… you know… I-I haven’t really been myself.” Reed finally admitted in a shrill voice as she battled the tears. 

Sam remained silent. When she finally chanced a look up at him, his eyes met hers with pity, and not the bad kind. Her eyes shied away from his as a sob pressed in her throat. Clenching her teeth so hard it hurt, Reed managed to hold it back until Sam wrapped his arms around her and protected her with his impressive height. The tears flowed down on their own accord as one sob after the other was pushed over her lips. 

“Hey, it’s gonna be okay.” Sam stroked the top of her hair to comfort her. “In a few weeks, you’ll be kicking demon ass like a piece of cake.” It was easy to hear the smile in his voice. Against her will, a chuckle mingled with her sobs and she smiled too through the tears. 

They stood like that for a few minutes until her crying quieted down. With a sniff, Reed pulled back. “Thanks,” She said with another sniff and wiped her tear-stained cheeks. 

“No problem.” He said genuinely. “Is this something you, uh, want to talk about?” Sam added a few seconds later. 

“No,” Reed said instantly, but then changed her answer, “No, but I think I have to. So… yes… if you wanna listen.” Though she knew what his answer was, she still looked hopefully up at him and sighed relieved and a bit anxiously when he said, “Of course. Anytime.” 

Reed didn’t know if it was because Sam felt obligated to make repairs for his brother’s wrongdoings or if he just genuinely cared so much for everybody. No matter what, she actually appreciated that he listened without judgment to her as she told him how she felt. Told him about her feelings she had only managed to put into words last night. 

Reed didn’t know for how long she talked, but Sam remained attentive but quiet, carefully taking in everything she said. A couple of tears sneaked their ways down her cheeks, but she managed to keep the sobs at bay. 

 

“… so as often as I can, I think ‘a demon did this to me.’ Then it’s more shapeless and faceless instead of thinking…” She took a strengthening breath and finished her last sentence, “that Dean, however changed he was, did this.” Reed nodded to herself and gave a little shrug to say, ‘and that’s it.’

Sam remained silent even after she stopped talking. When she dared to peek up at him, she saw he sat contemplating on the counter. Reed didn’t want to interrupt, so she stayed quiet too while she fidgeted with a loose thread on her sweatpants. 

“You know, Cass can make you forget everything if you want.” Sam finally soberly. 

“W-what?” She stammered unsurely. What did he just say?

“Cass can erase your memories of all this if you want.” Sam rephrased to make his meaning clearer. 

A million thoughts traveled through her head in a second. “I… I’d have to think about that,” Reed said hesitantly after a couple of seconds. 

“Of course. Take your time. It isn’t something that should be decided lightly. Memories are a part of making the person that we are.” Sam said wisely and nodded lightly to show his approval. 

 

It was a little past 8 p.m. when someone knocked on Dean’s door. After he yelled, “Come in,” Sam opened the door but kept standing the doorway. “Hi,” Dean greeted and rubbed his eyes. Hoping he didn’t look too bad. 

“Hi. I just wanted to hear if you’ve gotten something to eat or if you want some now? I’m just about to make some.” Sam asked casually. Though Dean knew him well enough to see that worry underneath. And the infamous puppy eyes was lurking just underneath his carefully composed face. 

“No thanks. I already got something.” Dean lied and let his hand run through his hair. With his foot, he pushed the bottle of scotch farther under the bed as the bottleneck was showing, but made it look like he had an itch.

“Dean, you’re…” Sam paused and Dean tentatively raised his head to look at him. “You’re not fine.” His brother finally said. He sounded almost apologetically for calling him out on his lie he had been telling since he was cured. 

Dean didn’t know what to answer. He could lie again, but they would both know it. He couldn’t think of anything to say that wasn’t a lie. So he decided to stay silent. Hoping Sam would get a hint and leave him alone. 

He wasn’t that lucky.

Almost a whole minute passed by and Dean’s resolve dwindled. Before he knew it, the words had sneaked over his lips, “No, I’m not.” He winced as if it hurt him physically to admit to the truth. Quickly, he searched his mind for some way to make Sam go away. 

After another minute in silence, he said quietly, “But I will be. I just need some time alone. I promise.” Dean looked directly into Sam’s eyes and made sure to put a mask on with a tired but reassuring smile. 

“Okay,” Sam nodded thoughtfully as he chewed on his lip. Indicating he was about to say something he didn’t really want to say. Dean suppressed a sigh and braced himself for what was about to come. 

“I hate to say this, but… you really, I mean _really_ need a shower and a shave.” Sam truly tried to make his face expressionless beside the little encouraging smile. 

“Really?” Dean raised an eyebrow and plastered a tiny smile onto his lips. He was actually relieved that it was the only ‘difficult’ thing Sam had to tell him. He had feared something like, ‘That’s not true either,’ or ‘I know about those bottles of scotch under your bed,’ or ‘I know you haven’t been eating.’ If taking a shower and shave were what it took to keep Sam off his back, then he would do it right away. 

“Dude, I could smell you all the way from the hall.” Sam chuckled. Clearly relieved that Dean didn’t get pissed or offended by his not so subtle hint about personal hygiene. 

“Okay, fine.” Dean forced another fake smile onto his lips that felt more like a grimace, as he stood up to find a towel from his closet. 

 

Sam had obviously been satisfied with him accommodating his wish. But as he stood there under the hot running water, he couldn’t find the strength to do anything than standing with bowed head and closed eyes as the cascades of water splashed down on him. His mind was busy drowning him with guilt and remorse. He wished he could do something for Reed that made it easier for her. Made it better. Wished that there was a way to undo everything he had done. Raping all those girls. Killing most of them afterward. 

He was disgusted with himself, and what he had allowed himself to become. He couldn’t see a way back from this. 

Dean concentrated about Reed again. The obvious one to start fixing things with. Because thinking of them all at once was like standing at the foot of Mount Everest and having to climb it with his bare hands. 

Maybe if he tried hard enough, went far enough, he would have a small part of redemption. Not completely, just a tiny dash of it. Because he didn’t deserve it fully or wholly. Just enough to keep going, trying to fix what he had screwed up so tremendously. 

If there just was a way to heal the scars he had given her, the harm he had caused her, he would do it. Over and over again. To heal what he had broken. 

_If there just was a way to heal me on the inside too._ An insignificant voice whispered at the back of his head. If he made things right, there might be a small chance to close the bleeding wounds inside him, but that was all…


	9. Chapter 9

Reed spent two days thinking about what Sam had told her, that Cass could erase her memories of her abuse. It was tempting to instantly say yes and get him to take it all away, but she wanted to be absolutely sure before she said yes. Or no. 

If she forgot, would she still be as determined to learn to defend herself against demons? Or would she forget _why_ she was doing it and give up the whole thing only to be a victim again? 

In the end, she heavyhearted had to admit that she didn’t want to forget. However horrible and awful the thing that had happened to her was. She knew with this decision that it would stay with her for the rest of her life, but she was sure she would at some point, be able to draw strength from it. Right now, she was already drawing strength from it. Not much, but enough to make her study hard and without a stop. 

She couldn’t forget, Reed realized. If she forgot, she could become a victim again and she would _never_ allow that. She needed to keep telling herself that like it would become a tangible reality if she just said it enough times. As ghastly as her memories were, it would only make her weaker to erase them from her mind. She had to get through this and get out on the other side, stronger. If she forgot, how could she prevent it from happening all over again? She couldn’t. She had to remember. 

When her decision had settled in her, she decided to tell Sam. 

 

“I’ve decided to keep my memories,” Reed said without further ado when they met the next morning to train regular self-defense. Cass weren’t there today. He had some angel business to take care of, or that was what Sam had told her. Which was probably fine as he still couldn’t comprehend ‘going easy’ on her. It was either nothing or full throttle, and Reed wasn’t experienced enough to that yet. She still had a small scratch from where he had held the angel blade to her throat. 

“Okay.” Sam just said with a small noncommittally nod. He showed neither approval nor disapproval. 

Slightly uncertain, she explained the thoughts behind her decision. Told him about the conclusion she had reached last night as they sat down on the floor instead of standing up. They both had a feeling that this conversation could last a while. 

“I think you’re doing the right thing. I know how it is to have… unpleasant things you want to erase from your past. But they had a say in defining the person I am today. I hope… I believe that they have made me a better person that I was. They’re bad, but they’re a part of a better me.” Sam spoke in a low voice. As he sat there on the floor opposite Reed, he looked so… vulnerable. His gaze was directed at the floor and it was like whatever bad thing that happened to him was playing on repeat before his inner eye. 

“You know you could have told me that before,” Reed said just as low. If he had shared this with her earlier, she might have reached a decision sooner, which would have given her more time to study. The question about keeping her memories or not had roamed her mind and made it difficult to focus on what she was reading and learning the different Latin phrases by heart. 

“I thought about it but decided it was better you reached your own conclusion. What’s best for me isn’t necessarily the best for you. And I wanted to give you a choice without prejudices.” Sam’s hazel eyes with green flecks found her blue ones as he spoke. The care and sincerity shone out of him even though it was clear this was just as hard for him as it was for Reed to talk about. She wanted to ask what had happened to him, but something held her back. So instead, she felt a need to hug him, to comfort him like he had done to her so many times already. 

She got on her knees and put her arms around Sam. He got on his knees too and returned her embrace, meaning Reed was now hugging his waist instead as he was so tall. 

For a moment, Reed was overwhelmed by the safeness, trust, and compassion he radiated with. They’ve only known each other for such a short time, but from the moment he saw her, he had taken her under his wing. Protected her, saved her. Taught her. Took care of her like they had known each other for years or were family. She wondered how Sam could be like that with the brother he had. They were two opposites. 

When Reed had gotten her emotions under control and composed herself, she whispered a deep-felt, “Thank you. Thank you for everything.” She unwrapped her arms from Sam and he released her too. 

“No problem,” Sam said and sent her a bright smile. 

Reed returned the smile as she got to her feet, “Should we get going?” 

 

Dean took a towel and headed down to the bathroom. When he reached the door, he heard the water was already running. Hmm. That was strange. He looked at the clock. It was 11 p.m. Sam usually didn’t take showers so late. But instead of going back to his room, he decided to sit down and wait. Then Sam could see he was capable of taking the initiative to take a shower on his own. Not that he felt the need to. For all he cared, he could stay in his room, hiding, for months without coming out. But he did it for Sam. Partially. Mostly it was to keep him off his back.

Dean heard the water being turned off and after a couple more minutes, Dean stood up and waited in front of the door as Sam must be done about now. 

The door opened and let out a cloud of steam. “R-Reed?” Dean stuttered aghast as he stood face to face with her. She was only wearing a towel and another towel was wrapped around her blonde hair. 

Reed jolted at the sight of him just outside the door and a shocked gasp jumped over her lips. At the next second, she slapped him so hard Dean’s head was jerked to the side. 

“Guess I deserved that,” Dean noted dryly with a raised eyebrow as he rubbed his red cheek. Reed covered her mouth as if she was just as surprised by the slap as him. 

“Sorry, I thought Sam was–” Dean started apologetically, but Reed cut him off midsentence. 

“Stay away from me, you monster.” Reed snapped belligerently and flounced past him to run down the hallway to her room, clutching hard onto her towel. 

Dean inhaled heavily as he covered his eyes with his hand and then exhaled powerfully. This didn’t exactly help with getting on her good side. Now she thought he was some creepy bastard lurking when she showered. 

Why hadn't he thought of the possibility that it could be Reed in there? Because he was fucking stupid. He had been so focused on Sam after dragging himself away from his bed and the bottle of scotch, that he had completely shut Reed out of his thoughts. The one time he shuts her out of his thoughts during a whole day, she shows up, and he screwed everything up. He had to find a way to make her listen to him so he could apologize and assure her what happened when he was a demon would never happen again. 

He was still rubbing his cheek as he stepped inside the steamy bathroom. His skin prickled, but to his surprise, he didn’t mind. She was in her good right to slap him. Then he shook his head as if he could shake it off him. 

_She’s right. I am a monster._ Dean thought to himself as he stood under the running water. 

“Monster.” He whispered to himself and lingered over the syllables as if testing the designation. The more he thought about it, the more he identified himself with the term. His actions surely fit that description. Though he was cured, he was still the one who had done it. He might have been a demon when he did it, but how much of it had been his deepest, darkest desires he just got the courage and lack of care to finally live out? He couldn’t even answer that question himself. It was like that and the demon part that just wanted to go on a rampage and raise hell was tangled so close together it was impossible to tell one from the other. Convincing him further, that Reed was really right. 

Why couldn’t Sam see the same thing as Reed could? 

That question lingered in his mind all night. It even haunted his dreams. 

 

 _Just when I least expect to see him, he shows up._ Reed thought as the uneasiness insidiously crept in on her as she sat on the bed in her room. When she walked around during the day, she knew there was a possibility of running into him and she was prepared for that. But every time she let her guard down and thought ‘now there’s no chance of running into him,’ _bam_ , and she ran into him. 

He had really startled her as he stood there a foot away from her when she opened the door. She couldn’t even remember having made a conscious decision to slap him, it just happened. Looking down on her hand, she realized it still prickled in it. 

When he inundated her like that, she felt her resolve dwindle about not erasing her memories. 

Stubbornly, Reed blinked the tears away and focused on controlling her rapid breathing instead. Running or hiding, even mentally, wasn’t the answer. She would survive and overcome this. But it would take time. And when she finally made it out on the other side, she would be stronger. 

When she had gotten control over herself, she dressed in panties and a tank top and crawled under the duvet with her phone. She didn’t look at it much, but now and then, she had to respond to her family and friends texts. The sudden ‘business trip’ was the perfect excuse to only reply once or twice a day, sometimes less. She was an accountant with the title ‘Master of Science (MSc) in Business Economics and Auditing.’ It wasn’t unusual big companies hired her for shorter periods of time and that she had to leave the state for that. This ‘trip’ was just a little more sudden than usual. Usually, she had a couple of days to alert family and friends, but it didn’t matter. They wouldn’t suspect a thing anyway. She was the most educated one of her two siblings and her parents, so they didn’t have much insight in her job though they interested asked about it and happily listened even though they didn’t understand much. They were just so proud of her. 

Again, she had to blink the tears away. They wouldn’t be so proud of her if they saw her now. Weak, crying all the time, apologizing all the time. Nearly apologizing for just breathing. But luckily, it was easy faking it on texts. A few emoji’s and they wouldn’t suspect a thing. There were three messages from her big sister, two from her mom, and a couple of messages from some of her friends. She replied to all of them before she snuggled further under the duvet and closed her eyes. 

It didn’t take many minutes before Reed was sound asleep. Training and studying so intensely drained her energy along with everything else that were going on inside her. 

 

She woke, shivering, in the dark of the night. Reed sat ramrod straight in her bed while she, covered in sweat, panted heavily. A look at the clock told her it was two in the morning. She was glad she still slept with the lights on. It helped her calm down faster when she woke like this. Dean with completely black eyes had intruded her dreams again. 

Reed stood up to get some water from the sink and realized her legs felt like jelly when she stood up. 

It took almost an hour before she could go back to sleep. 

 

It was 15 p.m. when Dean tumbled out of the bed. In his attempt to escape the nightmare, he landed on all fours on the floor. The sweat dripping from him and down on the carpet. His heart raced in his chest and he could barely breathe as the steel ropes tightened around his chest. 

The question he had asked himself last night in the shower still roamed inside him and obstructed his breathing further, spurring on his heart to race faster. 

_Why couldn’t Sam see the same thing as Reed could?_

Coffee. He needed some coffee. Quickly, with shaking hands, he grabbed the t-shirt and the pair of jeans that were closest to him on the floor, not caring if it was clean or dirty, and got dressed. Like always, he listened at the door before opening it. 

On the way to the kitchen, he rubbed the worst sleep out of his eyes. He had nearly reached the kitchen when he rounded a corner and almost bumped into someone. “Oh, I’m sorr–” Dean fell silent as he saw it was Reed he had nearly walked into. 

First, her blue eyes had been big of bewilderment, then her face transformed into a thundercloud. He could see she wanted to say something, but she noticeably clenched her jaw and marched around him. 

Dean turned around and grabbed her upper arm to stop her. “Hey, listen, I just want–” 

With an appalled expression, Reed looked at him down to his hand around her upper arm and back again. “How dare you!” She snapped furiously and tore her arm out of Dean’s light grip. “Do _not_ touch me. Ever again. I do _not_ want to listen to you. So stay away.” She lowered her voice until she was hissing under her breath. Her low voice was cold as ice like her fuming blue eyes. 

Dean took a step back as her words felt like a punch in the chest. It griped in his stomach and his gaze fell from hers to the floor. 

“Monster.” Dean heard Reed grumble as she walked away. He didn’t know if he was meant to hear it or not, but he did. Leaning against the wall, he pinched the bridge of his nose with a heavy sigh. 

To his own surprise, the steely ropes around his chest had loosened a little. Reed had given him what he deserved and it took a small chunk of the burden away. Like last night when she slapped him, he realized. He _should_ be punished and condemned for what he did. 

Again, the question ghosted in his mind. _Why couldn’t Sam see the same thing as Reed could?_

With slumped shoulders, he walked back to the room, forgetting everything about the coffee. Instead, he took a huge swig from the bottle of scotch from under his bed. 

Why would Sam forgive him for everything he’d done? Sam should be just as pissed at him as Reed was. That was what he deserved. 

He simply couldn’t understand why Sam apparently had forgiven everything he had done like it didn’t even happen. Maybe because he didn’t know everything… or because he felt obligated to because he was his brother. Well, both were the wrong reasons. What he did was unforgivable. 

Perhaps the world would be a better place without him in it. 

 

Reed slammed the door to her room after she was almost run down by Dean. Sheer fear had traveled down her spine when he grabbed her arm. As soon as his fingers had closed around her upper arm, she had gotten one flashback after the other from that night. 

_“I hope you’re hungry because I am,”_

__

__

_“Let go of me,” I said determined as I tried to shake off his hand. “I don’t think so.”_

_“Should I take you here on the floor as a filthy whore or do you want me to take you in the bedroom now that you're the romantic type.” He asked as he moved my head to first one side, then the other as he scrutinized me while trying to decide. “Though all girls like to feel cheap now and then.” He added matter-of-factly. His tongue playfully licked my lips. A shudder of fear and disgust coursed through me. “Pout those pretty lips for me.” He demanded before he brutally sealed his lips to mine._

The bile rose in her throat and she had to cover her mouth to keep it in along with the sobs that pressed in her throat. 

No. No! She wouldn’t let him control her. Clenching her jaw, she took as deep a breath as she could. Filling her lungs to the point where it felt like they were about to burst and then let out a whooshing exhale as she emptied her lungs completely. 

She then knew what she needed. Ripping the door open, she went out to look for Sam.


	10. Hurt Is Good

“Sam?” Reed called as she walked into the main room and found Sam with a stack of books. 

“What is it?” Immediately a worry line appeared between his eyebrows as he laid his eyes on her. “Are you alright?” Sam then asked. 

“Oh, um… yeah.” Reed hastily said as she dismissed his concern for her. “Can I… Do you have a car I can borrow? I’ll pay for the gas, of course.” 

“Uh, yeah, of course,” Sam said a little confused. He could clearly sense something was up with her but accepted that she obviously didn’t want to talk about it. 

Sam found the keys to a lime green Ford Thunderbird from 1965. “Sometimes you have to try a few times before it starts, but if you keep going long enough it’ll always start,” Sam told her through the open door as Reed got in the in driver’s seat.

“Thank you, Sam. I… I just need some air. I’ll be back in a couple of hours. I’ll refuel it before I come back.” She stuttered in the beginning but got her voice under control throughout the sentence. 

“No problem. See you later.” Sam tapped the roof of the car before he closed the door and Reed drove out of the garage. 

She drove onto the first highway she found without knowing where she was going. Reed just needed to get away. Get some distance. Get some air. The bunker could be claustrophobically sometimes as it was underground without any windows or anything. Actually, she hadn't been outside since that night she met Dean. Cass had taken her to her apartment, yes. But they never went outside, Cass only teleported her from the bunker to her apartment and back again. 

Reed fumbled with the radio, but she never found anything else that the noise between the stations, so she gave up and turned it off. She wished she had her yellow Volkswagen bubble here instead. But the Thunderbird was better than nothing. Her own car was still parked in the driveway of Dean’s house, which was a two-hour drive from the bunker. She could have asked Sam to help her get her car to the bunker, but she just didn’t see a reason to ask Sam for more than he was already given her. And up until now, she hadn't had the need for a car anyway. 

 

Reed drove for another half hour before she found a rest stop where she pulled over. For a long time, she just stared into the forest around her as she emptied her mind for every thought. 

Then she thought about how long it would take her to get back to her old self. Though she knew she would never be 100% herself again, but she hoped it was for the better. After contemplating for a while, she realized that she had already begun healing. It wasn’t much, and there was a long way to go, but she had started. Gathering the pieces of herself was like fumbling after them on the floor in darkness and then afterward had to find the right spot for that one single piece she had found, which was like finding the right spot in a 1000 piece puzzle. With time, it wasn’t impossible. And that kept her mood up. She wasn’t completely lost. She was on the right path on a one thousand mile journey on foot. That was what it felt like. But she would get there. 

The shame from that night, all the things Dean had said, still burned inside of her, but anger and aggrieve had become stronger than the shame. The only times’ shame was more profound was when she got flashbacks with Dean calling her a whore and stuffing bills down her bra and making her pretend to like it with the promise of stopping. Recording her without her knowledge and then showed it to her. 

The recording… oh, god. Did he still have it? Maybe he wasn’t a demon anymore, but he could still have kept it. Reed chewed frantically on her lower lip as she felt the anxiousness spike through her. She had to ask him, but her cheeks burned crimson just by the thought. Maybe she should ask Sam if he could talk to Dean about it. No, she had barely thought the thought through before she rejected it. She couldn’t ask Sam about it. He knew Dean had done some horrible things to her, but he didn’t know that. She had to take care of it by herself. At the prospects of this utterly humiliating and painstaking conversation, she would have to have with Dean, made her wanna keep sitting here and wail like a child and never return to the world. 

Locking the car, she walked twenty-thirty yards into the small forest and sat down on the forest floor. It was nice being outside. She didn’t know she missed it so much before she sat here. 

 

“Did you do whatever you needed to do?” Sam asked slightly awkwardly when she handed him the keys to the Thunderbird, as he didn’t know how to phrase the question correctly. 

“Yeah, I did. Thanks for letting me borrow the car.” Reed said gratefully. When she came back to the bunker, Sam had been sitting in exactly the same spot as when she left. The only thing that had changed was the pile of ‘read’ books had grown taller, and the ‘to-be-read’ pile was shorter. 

“I, uh, I actually have something for you. Or technically Cass got it.” Sam said with an excited smile as he found an elongated object wrapped in some fabric. 

“What is it?” Reed asked curiously. She had no idea what it could be, but she felt a lump of emotions stick in her throat by the obvious thoughtfulness they showed her. 

“Go on, open it.” Sam prompted with a benevolent smile. 

Reed carefully unwrapped the fabric. What was inside it felt hard. She put the fabric on the table and now stood with some sort of knife in her hand. It almost looked like it was made of a precious metal like silver instead of a regular kind of metal and it had a weird triangular blade. 

From different angles, she studied it. It was long, and now she was sure it was silver. It was more of a dagger than a knife. A triple-edged dagger, actually. If you made a cross section of the blade, it would be a triangle. “What is it exactly?” Reed asked after scrutinizing her new weapon. When she directed her gaze at Sam, she could she the pure joyful smile shine on his face. 

“It’s called an angel blade. It’s very powerful and can kill almost anything. Including demons.” He explained. Now that he mentioned it, she recalled Cass having one when they had trained together. She just never got a proper look at it as Cass moved too fast for her to block him. 

“And it’s mine?” Reed exclaimed astounded. She had to restrain herself from clapping her hands together and jump up and down like a child. 

“Yes, it is.” Sam grinned over Reed’s obvious excitement. 

“Thank you!” Reed rejoiced and before she could stop herself, she jumped on Sam’s lap to hug him. 

“You’re welcome. Okay, okay. Easy, you’re breaking my ribs.” Sam chuckled as he hugged her back. “Remember to thank Cass too when you see him.” He added as Reed a little ashamed of her unrestrained behavior released him and stood up. She got her gleefulness under control, but she was just taken aback by the gesture. 

“Thank you, Sam. I really appreciate it.” Reed said more composed this time. 

“Use it wisely. It can be dangerous in the wrong hands.” Sam told her. 

“I will,” Reed said soberly as if she was taking an oath. 

 

Reed postponed her conversation with Dean to the next day. When she had decided she would go find him, she sat on her bed nearly rocking back and forth for half an hour in anxiousness before she actually got up and went out to find him. 

To be on the safe side, she had concealed her angel blade under her blouse. Maybe Sam trusted him, but she didn’t know what he could be capable of now. 

Dean wasn’t in the kitchen or the main room, or anywhere else. She hadn't expected to find him any of those places, but she had hoped. But now she was forced to go to his room and knock on his door. 

In front of his door, she bit the hollows of her cheeks for several minutes before she took a steadying breath and knocked. With a stilled breath, she listened. 

“Come in,” Dean called from the other side of the door. 

Reed slowly opened the door but kept standing in the doorframe. As Dean looked up and saw it was Reed, he got to his feet with a loud gulp. Clearly sensing there was an exceptional reason to why she would seek him out.

“I-I have to ask you something.” Reed stuttered slightly in the beginning, but then got a hold of herself and continued in the most unfazed tone she could muster. 

“Anything,” Dean instantly blurted out. His green eyes flickered from Reed’s blue eyes like he couldn’t meet them for more than a couple of seconds at a time. 

“The, uh… the video you recorded of me… is it deleted?” The strength in her voice fell as she worked through the sentence until it was a frail whisper that quavered at the end. Now her eyes averted Dean’s too. Her face bloomed red of the embarrassment it was. Reed clenched her jaw and swallowed thickly when she felt the hot tears rise in her eyes. Blinking them away, she collected herself and raised her now firm gaze to Dean. In the few seconds she had looked away, he had turned ashen. His eyes stole a frantic glance at her before flickering to the floor again. 

Dean scratched the back of his neck and cleared his throat. “Yes, it is. It was the first thing I did after… after I was cured.” He shifted his weight nervously and looked upward as if he was trying to prevent invisible tears from escaping him. Squeezing his eyes shut, he cleared his throat again. 

It was clear they were both affected by this, but Reed couldn’t make herself believe it was genuine all the way through with Dean. Something inside her told her that he was exaggerating how affected he was and played on it to escape the consequences. 

“Okay. That was all.” Reed stated as neutrally as she could. 

“Reed, wait…” Dean took a step closer when she was about to close the door. As a reflex, she stopped in the middle, but then overcame it and closed the door fully. She had only taken three steps down the hall when the door opened behind her. “Reed, please wait…” Dean begged as he followed her. 

“Okay, what?” Reed turned around and nearly yelled as she flung out her arms at him. 

Dean skidded to a halt. His mouth opened and closed a couple of times as he tried to find the right word to start with. “I am so sorry about what I did to you when I was… when I wasn’t myself,” He said earnestly, but there was a hint of a plea coloring his voice. 

Dean drew in a breath to continue, but Reed beat him to it, “So you’re _sorry_ , huh? What use is ‘sorry’ to me? Hmm?” She snapped sternly, but she couldn’t hide the tremble in her voice. 

“If it’s no use to you, why are you on the verge of crying?” Dean whispered instead of what he originally had been about to say. 

Reed could think of nothing to say after her quiet gasp. A part of her wanted to scream at him, the other wanted to run. The two contradicting desires rooted her in her place. Dean’s green eyes, flooded with pain she didn’t know was real or an act, but they held her blue gaze. 

Finally, she tore her gaze from his. “Sorry doesn’t count when it comes from demons.” She hissed under her breath before she turned her back to him and marched down the hallway.

 

Dean thought for a moment, that he had been able to reach behind Reed’s hostile façade with his last sentence. He kept standing in the hall long after Reed’s footsteps had receded. He thought he was finally about to make her listen to him when she had come to his room, but he had been wrong. Or was he? He suddenly didn’t know. She had stopped for a moment to listen though she had still been belligerent. But her last comment still stung him like a thousand needles. Maybe a part of him would always be as infected and poisonous as if it had been a demon. Maybe he’ll never get rid of the true demon residing deep inside of him. 

 

During the next week, Dean built the courage to approach Reed three times. All three times his attempt of apologizing had failed miserably. For each time, Reed became increasingly aggressive and mean. Snapped and scolded him like no one had ever done before. She had even started mumbling mean names to him even when they passed each other without him doing anything else than just walk by her. He didn’t even look at her. But what made him try again and again and again, even though Reed seemed to hate him more and more, was the fact that it _felt good_ to have her rebuke him and yell at him. It made the steely ropes loosen. The fact that he beat himself up about it, much worse than Reed could ever do to him, didn’t help as much as when it was Reed telling him exactly how horrible he was, though he was much, much harder on himself than Reed could ever be. He got a bit of what he deserved, but it would never be enough. Never be enough to pay the price, so he could receive redemption. He would forever have red in his ledger no matter what he did to make up for it. Not even three lifetimes of good deeds could make up for the horrible things he had done as a demon. 

Maybe the world was a better place without him. 

But it also began to piss him off that she was so stubborn and determined to not listen to him. So that spurred him on to try again and again during the next week. The other thing that made him keep trying was because he really wanted her to know how sorry he was that _he_ happened to her. Like she was the personification of all the girls he had violated. Because he couldn’t apologize to them as they were all dead. There were only her. 

 

“Hey, you wanna get out? Maybe eat out or grab a beer or something?” Sam came to his room and asked casually. 

Dean clenched his jaw. His mood was at a low point right now and he just wanted to dwell in his misery _alone_. In seconds, his encounter with Reed half an hour ago flashed vividly before his inner eye. 

_“Give me a chance to make it up to you.” He begged her. His attempts were getting increasingly desperate as he tried to reach behind the wall she had built around herself._

_“You can’t ‘make it up to me.’ Why can’t you understand that? You did this to me! You ruined me! You did this to me, Dean!” The last sentences dripped with the resentment and spite as the tears began flowing down her cheeks._

_Dean’s trained gaze watched how her hand each time she yelled at him, reached behind her back to the blade she had concealed there. And every time, he pushed his defenses to the back of his head instead of getting ready to parry her and protect himself._

“No thanks. Maybe another time.” Dean said flatly to Sam. 

“You sure? Maybe it would be good to get out a little.” Sam tried to suggest and convince him. 

“Stop hovering over me, Sam!” Dean yelled as his inner pain was projected outward. He needed to be alone to fall to pieces. He wasn’t sure he could hold himself together through a whole meal or even a whole beer with Sam. He couldn’t accommodate more into his efforts of pleasing Sam. He already showered and pretended to eat when Sam saw it. Though he always trudged back to hiding in his room with the food so he could throw it out without Sam seeing it. 

The shock was clearly painted on Sam’s face, and Dean immediately felt even worse for hurting his brother like that. “I’m-I’m sorry. I just… I just need to be alone.” Dean let a hand tiredly run over his face and into his hair. 

“Okay.” Sam simply said and closed the door. But Dean saw the appalled and wounded look in Sam’s eyes before he disappeared behind the door and it cut through him like a knife. 

_Sam would be better off without me,_ Dean thought. 

 

What was it that he couldn’t understand? Why wouldn’t he just leave her alone? Reed felt like screaming after Dean, _again,_ had tried with his useless and pathetic excuses and justifications for his behavior. “I was a demon, I’m not anymore. I’m sorry I was so horrible. I’m trying my best. I am cured. I am human. Blah, Blah, Blah.” Reed mocked menacing to herself in a bad imitation of Dean. 

Every time he tried to talk to her, several things rushed through her. Impatience. Anger. And a sick part of her reveled in the satisfaction it was to yell at him, berate him, and telling him exactly how awful he was, and how bad a person she thought he was. And calling him a monster, and psychopath, and what else she could think of calling him was like a retribution for her. 

Throwing mean comments like that at Dean whenever Sam wasn’t around to hear it, made it easier to pick up the pieces and heal herself. Snapping at Dean made a piece jump into her hand and immediately she could locate the spot for it, where she before had to fumble after the pieces on the floor in darkness and then afterward had to find the right spot for the piece, which was like finding the right place in a 1000-piece puzzle. 

As her fear grew smaller and smaller and her anger bigger and bigger it made it all a lot easier. She couldn’t deny the fear slithering down her spine or spiking in her system whenever he confronted her, but using the anger as an anchor to herself made it easier to pick the millions of pieces back together. She needed the anger. 

During the last couple of days, she had stopped saying sorry in almost every sentence. She still felt the need to apologize, but she was getting better at biting her tongue and stop the words. 

The anger also helped her with not turning into a scared little mouse. She was getting braver, could breathe better, but she knew she wasn’t even halfway back to herself yet. She was still surviving instead of living. And she was still haunted by nightmares of Dean.


	11. Chapter 11

“Reed, I need to talk to you.” Sam said without further ado when he opened the door to her room after she had yelled, “Come in.”

“Um, okay?” Reed said curiously. A wariness drifted in over her at Sam’s grave tone. 

He sat down on her bed, his upper body facing her. She sat at the middle of the bed with her back leaned against the wall and the piece of paper with the exorcism in her hand. It was completely crumbled after being opened and folded so many times. 

“I need to leave for a few days– Don’t worry, Cass will be here.” Sam hastily added the last part when he saw the panic dawning on Reed’s face. 

“All the time?” She asked nervously. 

“All the time,” Sam assured her with a nod and a smile. 

“Why do you have to go?” Reed asked in a small voice. She felt like a pathetic child clinging to an adult, but she couldn’t help it. The thought of Sam leaving her to be alone with Dean and Cass made her uneasy. To her, Sam was the symbol of pure safety. 

“There’s a nest of vampires in Iowa I need to take care of. You’ll be fine with Cass around.” He said softly, but firmly. 

Reed nodded noncommittally. This was what he did. Killed monsters to protect people. Sweeping in like a knight in shining armor, just like he had saved her. 

“I was thinking… Maybe you can come along next time I have a demon on my hands. To get real combat training. Cass and I will be there to protect you, of course. Well, you can think about it. If you don’t want to, it’s fine. But I think it would be good for you to try and kill a demon by yourself so you know you can do it.” Sam suggested thoughtfully. 

“Um… I…” She started, not entirely sure what to think about it. To be honest, she was quite overwhelmed by his proposal. First of all, she hadn't thought Sam would drag her into a fight with real demons. Second of all, she wasn’t sure she was even ready to do that yet. 

“Just think about it.” Sam gently urged. The puzzlement was probably quite clear on her face. 

“Uh, o-okay.” Reed then surrendered. Just thinking about being face to face with a demon again made her anxious and she could feel her hands shake. She clenched them into fists to prevent Sam from seeing it. 

“I’ll come by and say goodbye in half an hour or so.” He told her before leaving. 

Thirty minutes later, Reed and Sam hugged goodbye in the garage. With rising concern, she watched his black car leave the bunker. All the way to her room, she kept saying to herself, “Cass is here. He’s an angel. It’s gonna be okay.” Cass had been in the garage too. To her relief, Dean had been absent. But she couldn’t shake off the feeling that she was being babysat by someone with Asperger’s. Never had she met anyone as socially awkward as Cass, and because of that, it was sometimes hard to imagine he was a mighty celestial being. 

She thought back on when Dean had still been a demon and had been loose in the bunker. She had ran into Cass right after escaping Dean’s claws. Then he had lived up to his title as an angel. She remembered the power that radiated from him and his voice as he had been ready for combat. Remembering that, she felt calmer with having Cass as a buffer between her and Dean instead of Sam. 

It was going to be all right. Sam said he didn’t count on being away more than a week, tops. 

 

Dean felt left behind and inadequate when Sam told him he was going on a hunt and mildly suggested that Dean stayed behind to get some rest. But he knew Sam was right. He was in no condition to go on a hunt. That realization made the steely ropes tighten. 

Right as he had been about to ask, ‘what about Reed?’ It was almost as if Sam had read his mind and before Dean could ask, he had said, “I’ve asked Cass to keep an eye on the bunker while I’m gone.” 

While Sam had packed and gotten ready, Dean had demonstrating occupied the shower to state to Sam he was on his way to being normally functioning again. Now Sam had just left. Dean came with an excuse about Reed to say goodbye in his room instead. 

It was fifteen minutes since he had heard Sam’s car leave. He reached under the bed for a bottle of scotch, but the first two he grabbed were empty. Weird. He usually put the filled ones against the wall. Dean got down on his knees to rummage around under his bed but found nothing but empty bottles. With an annoyed sigh, he listened in front of his door before walking to the kitchen. To his relief, he didn’t meet either Cass or Reed on his way. 

When he looked in the cupboard where the booze normally was, the irritation rose in him. The cupboard was empty. He looked in the next cupboard, but there was no alcohol. There weren’t even as much as a beer in the fridge. The panic grabbed tighter onto him for every cupboard where he didn’t find as much as a bottle of cough syrup. A layer of clammy moisture broke out on Dean’s forehead and back as he went to the main room to see if there were any half-empty bottles there, but there was nothing. 

As a last resort, Dean hurried to Sam’s room, but again he came up empty handed. His shaky hands ran desperately through his hair. He hadn't even had a spiked cup of coffee this morning. His breathing became heavier as the agitation became more prominent. 

He had to go out and buy something, but he doubted he could keep it together for the short time it would take to get it and get back here. With a trembling sigh, he hurried back to his room to grab his jacket and the keys to the Impala. He had to make it. there were no other way around it. 

 

Dean’s hands shook so much he could barely put the key in the ignition. When he finally got it in and turned it, the Impala kept cranking but wouldn’t come to life. 

“Oh, you gotta be kidding me,” Dean grumbled agitated. He pumped the pedal and tried again. The engine spluttered and cranked, just on the edge of starting. Dean turned the key over so hard, he for a moment, was afraid it would break, but it still wouldn’t start. 

He paused for a moment. Heaved in a deep breath with closed eyes and then tried again. “Come on, come on, come on…” Dean begged as the engine spluttered, but then the cranking interval decreased as he drained the battery. 

“Come on, you stupid old piece of shit!” Dean yelled angrily and hit the wheel. Then he realized what he had just done and he sighed tiredly as the anger dissolved and settled in him as a desperate restlessness and uneasiness instead. 

“Sorry, baby. Sorry, I didn’t mean it.” He apologized full of guilt as he gently tapped the dashboard. 

How deep water was he in when he could make himself talk like that to baby? He was too far out. Dean leaned his forehead against the wheel and sighed deeply as he felt a drop of sweat roll down in temple. What had become of him? He was a mess. It was worse than he had thought if he could treat baby like that. Since he was cured, he had been in a drunken haze. Desperately trying to dull the thunderstorm of pain inside of him. Now where he was somewhat sober, he could see how messed up he really was and that scared him. 

“I’m sorry, but I don’t have time to take care of you right now. I love you.” Dean apologized as he kissed the wheel. He needed to get some scotch. He could barely think. The fact that there wasn’t a drop in the bunker made the panic grab tighter onto him. 

“I’m sorry,” Dean whispered to the Impala as he went inside again to find the keys to one of the other cars. 

The keys to the Thunderbird were the ones that hung first on the hook, so those were the ones he took. He knew it was as reliable as his sawed-off shotgun. 

It only took three tries before the engine of the Thunderbird roared to life and Dean breathed a sigh of relief. He wouldn’t make it to the store if he had to walk. His body was craving the alcohol like it was oxygen. He hadn't had a drop since five this morning and now it was 10. 

 

He threw the car on the first and best parking spot on the parking lot in front of the store and stormed inside. He grabbed three bottles of scotch and three bottles of vodka in his arms and went to the checkout. As he waited for his turn, he tapped impatiently with his foot while shifting his weight uncomfortably. The deprivation of booze was taking a toll on his body and for a moment, he doubted he would even get through the rest of the day. Even with liquor. 

Dean felt the shame wash through him when he handed the checkout assistant the money with shaking hands like he was a hardened alcoholic. Maybe he had become one, he thought gloomily. 

The first thing he did as he got inside the car was rip the cap off one of the bottles of scotch and put it to his lips. He swallowed several bitter mouthfuls of the bottle before he put it down with a heavy breath. With closed eyes, he leaned his head back as the guilt and remorse filled him. His existence wasn’t worth anything. All he was now was a burdened alcoholic. The world would be a better place without him. 

Something billowing slowly through the air caught his gaze. A strand of blonde hair landed on his shoulder. Dean frowned and picked it up so he could hold it in front of him. The strand of blonde hair was long. Instantly, he thought of Reed. When had she been in the Thunderbird? Dean shrugged, then rolled the window down, and threw it out. Putting the bottle aside, he turned the key in the ignition with less shaking hands and drove home. 

When he parked in the garage, his hands had stopped shaking and the clammy coat of sweat had become cold on his body. 

 

A knock on the door made Dean jump up from the floor where he was hiding the bottles under his bed. “Come in.” He said as he threw himself casually on the bed. 

The door opened and in came Cass. Dean didn’t notice he had held his breath until he exhaled. A part of him had hoped and feared it had been Reed. 

“Where have you been?” Cass asked wonderingly. 

“Just thought I’d get some fresh air, so I found a diner where I ate breakfast.” Dean lied without missing a beat. 

Cass nodded to himself, then his nose wrinkled like he caught a scent in the air. “You’ve consumed alcohol. Isn’t it the usual etiquette to wait until 5 p.m. or did I misunderstand something?” 

“Got a little in my coffee. That isn’t unusual.” Dean dismissed him. 

“Sam is worried.” Cass bluntly changed the subject. 

“Oh, did he tell you?” Dean couldn’t hide a slight mocking in his tone.

“Yes, he did,” Cass confirmed unaffected by Dean’s tone. 

“And now you’re worried too, then?” Dean’s voice was harsher than he wanted it to be. Wasn’t it enough Sam hovered over him like a wounded puppy and now he had to deal with Cass too?

“Yes.” Cass’s forehead furrowed like Dean’s question confused him. Then it looked like he pushed it aside. “Maybe you should consider… what do you call it? Getting it together?” Cass narrowed his eyes and tilted his head when he spoke the last sentence slowly as if trying it out to see if it sounded right. 

“Not you too.” Dean scoffed and mumbled under his breath. His right hand rubbed his eyes and then traveled through his hair. “Look, I’m just a little on edge because Sam is out hunting and I can’t come with him. Okay?” Dean said as an excuse. 

“I see. You want to fight at your brother’s side in order to protect him.” Cass’ face lightened up as Dean finally said something he could relate to and understand fully. 

“Yeah.” Dean just concurred. That Cass got the wrong idea was better than him catching onto the truth. 

“If there’s anything I can do, let me know.” Cass said. It was easy to hear it was a human saying he had adopted on the way he unsurely let out the words. 

“Appreciate it, Cass. I just need a little more time, okay?” Dean felt guilty about lying to Cass, but he clenched his jaw and did it anyway. He didn’t even know where to start if he had to tell the truth. 

 

To Reed, the bunker felt oddly empty without Sam. Instead of training with him, she trained with a punching bag hanging from the ceiling. When she went to sleep that night, she felt like a child sleeping without its security blanket and she realized how far she still had to go. Since she had been violated, Sam had been there 24-7. She didn’t think he made that much of a difference, but she had to admit that he did. He made her feel safe like no one had done before. A part of her praised him for that, the other part hated that she was too weak to make herself feel safe. 

The next day, after only a few hours of interrupted sleep, she didn’t pause for a second. She punched and kicked the punching bag until the sweat hailed off her. Then she trained her technique with her angel blade. To give her muscles a break, she went to the kitchen and filled a bowl with water to practice making holy water. 

Reed stopped in the middle of the Latin incantation when she heard footsteps leading to the kitchen. She felt how her muscles stiffened and her jaw clenched the closer they got. 

Dean stopped in the doorway when he saw Reed. Nervously, he scratched the back of his neck before inhaling heavily and walked into the kitchen. “Can we talk?” He asked as he stood in front of her. The kitchen island was the only thing between them. His green gaze flickered to hers before it dropped to the table.

“Go away,” Reed said firmly. 

Dean drew in another deep breath and she saw the muscles in his jaw clench. “Can you stop being a bitch for a second and just take a minute to really listen to me?” For the first time since he was a demon, he met her eyes with a penetrating gaze without the slightest flicker. 

Before she could even think, Reed took the bowl of water and emptied it in Dean’s face with a loud splash. “Do _not_ call me a bitch, you fucking jackass!” She screamed, a hysterical note started to rise in her voice. _How dare he?_

Dean hadn't budged an inch when she threw the water at him. Instead, he balled his hands into fists so hard they were shaking. His jaw was clenched so hard, his teeth were grinding together. Only a few seconds had passed by, when Dean stormed around the kitchen island, heading for her. 

By instinct, Reed screamed and backed up, but she was cornered against the back of the kitchen. The only way out was behind Dean. 

She backed until she felt the wall against her back and stopped her. At the next moment, Dean’s hands slammed against the wall on each side of her head, capturing her between the wall and him, making her jolt with a shocked scream. Everything she had learned about self-defense eluded her mind and left her paralyzed by fear. He was so close, his drenched hair and clothes dripped on her. His face only inches from hers. Her scream wound down to a terrified whimper. 

“This is enough now!” Dean thundered and scared Reed so much she thought her knees would give in under her. “I am so sorry for what I did to you! But at the time it happened, I wasn’t myself! I was a fucking demon! It’s no excuse, I know! But I’m myself again and I’m sorry! Do you ever think you can blame me more than I blame myself? Make me feel worse than I already do? Well, you can't! Your nasty comments are sugar-coated compared to how I talk to myself! Do you get that? So when do you get that I am sorry for what I did? That I feel remorse! That I wish I could take it back or undo it? If I could, I would do it in a second no matter the consequences! Do you fucking get that?” He yelled furiously in her face. 

As the silence laid over them, and they did nothing but stare unwavering at each other, Reed thought she saw him go misty-eyed before he choked up swallowed to suppress it. Then he turned around and marched out of the room, leaving her speechless and jelly-kneed against the wall. Reed heaved in a deep breath and when she powerfully exhaled, a sob broke free from her throat. But that wasn’t the only thing that broke free. Something inside her wrenched free and drifted away from her. She couldn’t pinpoint what it was yet, but it was something important. 

The kitchen felt eerily quiet after Dean’s yelling. The only sound was Reed’s still slightly panting breath as she tried to collect herself after Dean’s outburst. She closed her eyes and leaned her head back until it reached the wall. A single tear escaped her eye and rolled down her cheek. With a shaky sigh, she let herself slide down to sit and sagged against the wall. Still unsettled, she let her head fall into her hands while she tried to regain the control over her heart and lungs. 

Slowly, she got herself calmed down and realized what was different. For the first time, she saw Dean’s remorseful face when she closed her eyes instead of the man that raped her…


	12. Chapter 12

Dean was still shaking when he slammed the door to his room. His first instinct was to grab the bottle of scotch to drown the trembling. After three big mouthfuls, he wiped his cheek, not only wet because of the bowl of water she had thrown at him, with the back of his hand and let out an exasperated scoff. But then he sighed plagued. He was glad that he got to say what he wanted to Reed, but he felt bad about the way he had done it. Her blue eyes had been big and filled with fear. Now that he thought about it, he was actually surprised that she hadn't stabbed him because she always reached for her knife whenever he confronted her. 

He felt like apologizing to her. But what was the use? She wouldn’t listen to him, but he knew he had crossed a line today by yelling at her like that. Hiding his face in his shaking hands, he sniffed. 

The door to his room opened, and Dean jumped up, expecting to see Reed, but it was Cass that stood in the doorframe. 

“I heard yelling,” Cass stated, but then realized barging in like that might have been wrong. He shyly shifted his weight before looking at Dean again. “You’re wet?” It sounded like a statement like his previous sentence, but the way his brow furrowed indicated a question mark. 

Honestly, Dean couldn’t handle any more confrontations today. He just wanted to be alone to fall to pieces. The shaking had quieted down, but a storm was raging inside of him. He was already doubting that he would make it through this day. “Go, Cass,” Dean said. The breakdown was clear in his voice. 

“I don’t understa–” Cas began, but Dean brutally cut him off. 

“Goddammit, I said scram, Cass!” Dean yelled. Now it wasn’t only his hands that were shaking. It felt like his whole body was trembling to the point where he was falling apart. Cass was about to open his mouth to say something, but Dean beat him to it. “I can’t take you and Sam looking at me like I’m damaged goods or a wounded puppy, okay? I know damn well I am. I don’t need you to remind me of it all the time. So go, Cass. Get the fuck out of here. I can’t even stand looking at you.” At the last sentence, Dean had to clench his jaw and push the words out as he felt a lump in his throat and the hot tears prickling in his eyes. He knew he was a wreck, but either Cass or Sam had deserved to see him like this. Like a shadow of himself. 

“But, Dean, wait a seco–“ Cass started confused, but once again, Dean cut him off mid-sentence. 

“Get your feathery ass back where it belongs!” He desperately shouted and pointed upwards. 

“I promised Sam–” Cass replied firmly. It was clear Dean’s words and hostile attitude was getting to him. 

“I know, but I’m not gonna go dark sided and harm Reed, okay? She’s safe here with me. We don’t need you. _I_ don’t need you.” He sneered the last at him. He knew his words hurt Cass. And they cut through him like knives as he spoke them, but he realized hurting Cass was the only way to make him leave. He was falling apart at the seams and it was only a matter of minutes before he couldn’t keep it together anymore. And if it happened in front of Cass, he was going to tell Sam. Dean couldn’t let that happen. 

For a few seconds, Cass stared worried and wounded at him. Next time Dean blinked, there was a flap and Cass was gone when he opened his eyes again. 

Finally, he was alone. He let out a quavering and tired sigh before he let himself sink to the floor next to the bed. He could be in peace now. Sam or Cass wouldn’t come by. The chances of Reed coming by was next to zero. 

He was alone, and he let himself fall apart. 

 

The rest of the day, Reed’s thoughts revolved around Dean, and what he had said. She could see he had been sincere, but something in her still didn’t trust him. And she had clearly smelled alcohol on his breath. People could be different when they were drunk compared to sober. 

A little ball of guilt started sprouting in her. She had been so mean to him, but she had a reason. Instead of speculating more about it, she pushed it aside and thought about why every lesson of self-defense Sam had taught her had evaporated from her mind. It annoyed her. What was the point of training when she forgot everything in a crucial moment? Maybe Sam was right, maybe she needed to ‘get out in the field’ and kill a demon, so she knew she could do it. Right now, she didn’t know if she would get paralyzed by fear the next time she was confronted with a demon. Though technically Dean wasn’t a demon anymore. 

That kept her awake during the night. That her fear was stronger than her ability to fight and protect herself. In the late hours of the night, she tried to mentally train herself. Imagining different scenarios. Tried to get her fear on a leash. 

She was tired when she finally decided to get out of bed, but more determined than ever. Though she couldn’t shake the questions and self-doubt completely off her. 

Her self-doubt and self-recrimination bothered her more and more as the day progressed, and made her more determined to eradicate them. She wouldn’t allow herself to freeze like that again. She needed experience. Needed to stay cool under pressure. When she trained here in the bunker, she wasn’t under any kind of pressure. It was safe here. Why hadn't Sam pushed her more? Did he think she was… fragile? Well, she wasn’t. And she felt an urge to prove that to herself. 

Before doing anything rash, she practiced her technique with her angel blade again until she was completely confident she could do this. Even Sam thought it was a good idea for her to confront and kill a demon. With supervision, though. But what if she was in a controlled situation? And if Sam and Cass were with her when she would kill her first demon, would the whole scenario be realistic? Would she be able to defend herself without Sam as her security blanket? She doubted that more and more, the more she twisted and turned this in her mind. 

Finally, she realized, she had to grow up and throw out her security blanket. 

 

Drowning the despair in alcohol stopped having the same effect on Dean. He couldn’t take this anymore. After finding a pen and a piece of paper, he sat down on his bed and wrote, _Sam._ The words flowed out on the paper. Setting the final period, he laid it on his pillow before grabbing his jacket and the half-empty bottle of scotch. 

Without much hope, he got behind the wheel in the Impala and turned the key in the ignition. As last time, she cranked but wouldn’t come to life. He grabbed his Colt with engraved slide and ivory grips from the trunk and took the keys to the Thunderbird instead. 

He hadn't realized how late it was before he drove out of the garage. It was already dark outside. 

After a fifteen-minute drive, Dean found a remote spot where he could be in peace. He turned off the car and with a sigh, stared at the bottle of scotch and the Colt on the passenger seat. He wasn’t strong enough to be the hero he once was. The booze dulled the pain, but it couldn’t take it away. For every day, it ate more and more of him. If this continued, he would disintegrate until there was nothing left of him. He was already nothing but a shadow of himself. 

Dean screwed the cap off the bottle and took a swig. Then another. When there was only a quarter left of the bottle, he slowed down a bit to let the alcohol work its magic. There was no point in liquid courage if it didn’t have time to work. 

Leaning his head back, he closed his eyes and slowly consumed the last of the bottle while thinking of Sam and Cass. And his dad, and mom. Even gave Reed a short thought before he put the empty bottle down and took the gun instead. He checked the 7-round magazine. It was full. 

He turned off the safety, put the gun to his temple, and closed his eyes. The gun rattled in his shaking hand.

There was nothing left for him besides a lonely curving road filled with agony and without mending. It was better this way. 

But as a tear rolled down his cheek, a whimper seeped past his lips, and the gun rattled more intensely. His body was stiff in anxiousness and anticipation. Clenching his jaw, he breathed heavily through his nose to regain control over himself. 

He wanted this… 

But he was too weak to do it. He was a coward. With a frail sob, his hand with the gun fell. Dean wiped his wet cheek, but more tears rolled down on their own accord, faster than he could remove them. Instead, he rested his forehead against the wheel with slumped shoulders. Clenching his jaw, he tried to hold back the sobs, but they came out choked up and haltingly as he still fought uselessly to keep them back. 

Dean cursed himself for not being strong enough to see it through. He had been through so much, but when it really came down to it, he was a pathetic coward. 

As Dean wallowed in his misery, a scream made his head snap up. Despite his state, he acted by instinct. Someone was in trouble. Without a second thought, he jumped out of the car with the gun in his hand. 

 

Between all of Sam’s books, Reed was looking for one specific one; a journal. Sam had shown her a few pages in it about demons, including what she needed right now. 

Finally, after a ten-minute search, she found it. She carefully turned the pages in the book, as she knew how much it meant to Sam. He had told her it had been his dad’s. 

Around the middle of it, she found what she was looking for. She needed a picture of herself. Fuck. No, wait… maybe she still had a photo in her wallet from when she needed her license renewed. With the journal under her arm, she hurried to her room. 

Behind one of the cards in her wallet was indeed a photo of her. The same that was on her driver’s license now. It was a little creased at the edges but it would do. Then she looked at the journal to see what else she needed. Graveyard dirt and a bone from a black cat or milk from a black cow. And of course, a box for all of it. Luckily, she knew where their stash for ritualistic things was from when Sam had shown her around in the bunker. She just begged that they had the ingredients. Reed wasn’t too fond of the prospects of having to kill a cat or try to find a black cow in a random field she could milk. 

“Cat bone. Cow milk. Cat bone. Cow milk.” She mumbled to herself as she looked through all the shelves with increasingly weirder and more disturbing things. Reed tried not to pay too much attention to it and just skimmed the labels instead of looking at the contents as she searched. 

Reed found both the cat bone and the cow milk but decided to go with the cow milk. She wasn’t so comfortable touching the cat bone. Though she considered herself more of a dog person. What she didn’t found was a box. Checking the journal again, she saw it didn’t say which kind of box she needed, just that she needed a box. So what she did was go to the kitchen and found a transparent Tupperware box with blue lid, where she put the graveyard dirt, the cow milk, and the picture of herself. 

 

“The fuck?” Reed mumbled confused when she saw the Thunderbird was missing from the garage. Annoyed, she started looking for the keys to one of the other cars. That the Thunderbird was gone could only mean one thing. Dean wasn’t home. Cass didn’t need a car, so the only one who could have taken it was Dean. She couldn’t hide to herself how glad she was that Dean was gone. Secretly, she prayed that he had left for good, but she probably wasn’t that lucky. 

From the key box, she took the key that hung first. It was to a Chevrolet. The old Impala. Getting in on the driver’s side, she turned the key in the ignition. The engine spluttered and cranked but quickly decreased like the battery was starting to drain. Reed tried a couple more times before she gave up and desperately hoped one of the other cars would start. Her determination wanted to execute this plan right away while she still possessed the courage to do it. She was nervous, yes, but it was like ripping off a bandage. It would be better to confront her fear and get it over with. 

The next key was to an MG. It was red and looked old. Like it was made in the fifties or sixties. Reed wasn’t a car expert, but she could recognize it as a Model A, but not more than that. She put the keys in the ignition and sent a little prayer before turning the key. The car cranked and sputtered so much the chassis shook. 

“Come on.” She begged and pumped the gas pedal a few times. The cranking increased until it was on the verge of starting. Reed pumped the gas pedal again and the revolutions in the engine haltingly increased until it roared to life. “Thank you.” She said before buckling her seat belt. 

 

Reed parked in the grass at the side of the dirt road. It wasn’t far from the bunker. On her way, she had stopped to buy a red rug and a can of spray paint. Unfortunately, they only had pink left, but she didn’t think it would make a difference. 

From the journal she had brought with her, she drew a devil’s trap on the underside of the rug and laid it out neatly in the middle of the remote crossing roads. She checked her angel blade and the silver hip flask with holy water before she took the Tupperware box and kneeled in the middle of the roads. She dug a hole with her hands in front of the red rug and covered it again before she could regret it. 

Quickly, she stood up and anxiously looked around with racing heart. Her head whipped to the sides, as she didn’t know where the demon would materialize. It was dark, but the moonlight from the full moon provided enough light for her to see clearly as the sky was clear. The only sound she could hear was her pulse thundering in her ears. 

“What do you seek?” A voice said from behind her. In her anxiousness, she had turned around herself and stood with her back toward the red rug. Startled, she spun around and saw the demon stand ten yards from her. 

The demon was a woman. Reed didn’t know why, but in her head, she had always pictured demons to be men though Sam had told her demons could possess anybody without an anti-possession mark. 

The demon flashed its red eyes. She had long wavy brown hair and was wearing a skintight black dress with a deep cleavage, accompanied with black sky-high stilettoes. 

For a moment, Reed was stunned, but then she remembered her plan and kneeled in front of the red rug. “I-I…” Reed stammering trailed off. Her palms were sweaty and her heart thudded so loud against her ribcage, she was sure it was visible. 

“Fame? Money? What do you seek? I can give you everything you ever dreamed of.” The demon sensually lured as she took a couple of steps closer. 

“I prepared this for you. It’s only appropriate.” The nervousness sneaked its way into Reed’s voice as she gestured towards the red rug that should resemble a red carpet in miniature. 

“Why?” The demon inquired as she took a closer look at her and the rug. 

“Because I want to serve a demon,” Reed confessed. 

“So you didn’t summon me for your own profit?” Her forehead furrowed as she took a step closer. 

_Just a few more steps,_ Reed thought as she shook her head at the demons question. She fought to compose her face and hoped her fear looked like awe to the demon. Though she was afraid, her training hadn't eluded her mind yet and she was grateful for that. Her muscles were tense and ready to reach for her weapon. 

“Well, this is interesting. What do you have to offer me?” A charming smile spread across her red lips as she walked closer. She twisted a lock of her brown hair around one of her fingers as she finally stepped onto the red rug. 

As soon as both her feet was on the rug, Reed jumped to her feet and a step back. From the inner pocket of her jacket, she pulled the silver hip flask with holy water and sprayed it on the demon. Her skin sizzled and she yelped while she uselessly tried to remove the burning water. 

Reed felt a rush run through her as her plan of acting like a demon worshipper had worked. Luring a crossroads demon into a devil’s trap seemed like the most controlled situation Reed could create by herself. 

She grabbed the angel blade from her back and took a defensive stance. Ready to leap forward when she had found the right spot. 

The effects of the holy water decreased and the demon turned her head to look at Reed with a furious gaze. The holy water had made her bent over, but now she straightened up and held her right hand forth with her palm up. Her fingers clawed in the air as she pulled her hand back. At first, this gesture confused Reed until she felt an invisible force drag her forward in the same motion the demon pulled her hand back. A surprised gasp came from her and then a yelp as she collided with the demon that kept grounded in her stance as if Reed weighed nothing when she got thrown against her. 

The demon grabbed onto her jacket and Reed instantly found her footing and swung the angel blade toward the monster. 

“Stupid girl.” The demon sneered and with a flick of her hand, she hit Reed’s hand so hard she groaned, and she lost her grip on the angel blade and it landed several yards from the devil’s trap. 

“No!” Reed gasped in panic and tried to free herself to get her weapon, but the demon retaliated with a slap to her left cheek that would have made her fall if the demon hadn't kept her hold on her jacket. 

Reed used her weight to hammer her elbow onto the brunette’s face when she pulled her up to stand straight. But hitting her face was like hitting a concrete wall and the pain made Reed bent over as much as the demon’s grip on her allowed. 

Then a pain on her shoulder made her scream so loud it echoed through the quiet night. When Reed looked up, she saw the demon had made a knife materialize in her hand. The edge of the blade had a layer of blood on it after the cut. 

She held the knife to Reed’s throat. She felt the cold metal on her bare skin and a shudder of pure fear coursed through her and made the blood run ice-cold in her veins, but still, she hadn't forgotten her training though there wasn’t much she could do in this position. 

“You know what?” The demon studied her face. There were only two inches between them. The brunette’s left hand had a steely grip on Reed’s jacket, while the other pressed the knife harder and harder to her throat and she felt it cut into the outer layer of her skin.

“You’re pretty.” The demon stated after scrutinizing her face, then her brown eyes narrowed. “I think I’ll take you for a little spin. You seem inexperienced, even for a hunter, so I bet you don’t have an anti-possession tat yet if you even know what that is. The question is: do I kill you before I take a spin in you or after?” Her red lips curled upwards as a contemptuous chuckle emitted from her. 

A deafening sound caused Reed to jolt and scream in shock. Simultaneously with the deafening sound, the demon was jerked back and lost her grip on Reed who tumbled backward and fell to the ground. 

Confused, Reed looked around to take it all in, to find out what had happened. To her left was Dean with a smoking gun still raised. To her right stood the demon, still inside the devil’s trap, but with a gunshot wound to her shoulder where the blood poured out. 

“Fucking Winchester!” The demon sneered just as Reed yelled, “Dean! Angel blade!” And pointed to the blade that was still several yards away from her. 

The demon lifted its hand as when she had dragged Reed to her, but before she could do more than that, Dean shot her again and ran to the angel blade. Before he reached it, he shot the demon again to keep it incapacitated enough for him to get a hold of the blade. As a baseball player screeching to base, Dean reached the angel blade and ran towards the demon where he fired two more bullets before entering the devil’s trap. 

Almost with grace, Dean swung the blade to parry the demon’s arm with the knife lashing out at him and then he hammered the angel blade directly into her chest. She crackled and lit up with a strange orange glow as if it came from inside her skeleton. And then she fell lifeless to the ground. It all happened so fast, she could hardly believe the demon was already dead. Then another question hit her, where did Dean come from? How did he know where she was or what she had been doing?


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> MINI HIATUS ! :'(  
> Sadly, I have to take a mini hiatus for 1-2 months. Find more information on my FB page [Here](https://www.facebook.com/Rrated26/?fref=ts)  
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“You okay?” Dean yelled, still panting. Unconsciously, Reed had crawled back from the fight. 

“Y-yeah.” She stammered. She was okay. The cut on her shoulder hurt and her butt too after falling, but that was it. She could feel her cheek was still red after the slap, but it only prickled now. 

At first sight, Dean looked put together, collected. Reed felt shaken and scattered. She wasn’t brave at all. She was too weak. 

Dean took the red rug under his arm and marched over to her. His aggressive stance and fast pace towards her made her unconsciously crawl a little further back. But when he started yelling, she stopped and flinched instead of his harsh, cutting tone, “What the fuck were you thinking? Endangering yourself like that, what the hell?” He stopped in front of her, towering over her while he continued yelling. Reed felt her eyes widened as the fear was reignited. He looked so angry and so scary. His raised sonorous voice boomed around her in the quiet night. 

“What would you have done if I hadn't been here, huh? What the fuck is wrong with you? Are you as stupid as your hair color suggest or what the fuck? Stop looking at me like that! I’m not gonna fucking hurt you! I just saved your stupid pretty ass from a demon that was about to turn you into shish kebab. What the hell, man? Now get your pretty ass to the car and let’s fucking get home.” Dean pointed to the left before he turned on his heels and marched in the same direction as he had pointed. He had only walked a few steps when he realized she hadn't even gotten to her feet yet, so he spun around again. “I said, let’s go!” He nearly screamed. Reed jolted and then frantically got up from the ground and followed him with bowed head. 

She was so stupid. What had she been thinking? 

“For god’s sake.” She heard Dean mutter in front of her just as the Thunderbird came into her sight. It wasn’t more than fifty yards away from the crossroads, tops. Again, she wondered how he knew she had been there, but she didn’t dare to ask when he was this angry with her. 

Dean slammed the door on the driver’s side so hard Reed winced. She hesitated for a moment before she opened the door on the passenger’s side, but stopped before she got in. There was an empty bottle of scotch on the passenger’s seat. When she reached forward to put it on the floor, Dean’s hand shot forth and angrily threw it to the bottom of the car. With a gulp, she got in next to him. 

She didn’t dare to look at him. She just sat with bowed head and fidgeted with a loose thread on her jacket. 

He turned the key in the ignition, but before he started driving, he pushed the angel blade into her hands. Now, here in the small space of the car, she noticed he reeked of booze. As he started driving, the car lurched unsteadily on the road and he struggled slightly with the clutch and gears. 

“Um… Do-do you want me to… um, drive?” Reed asked in a small stammering voice. 

“No.” He snapped and tightened his grip on the wheel, which made her see how much his hands shook. Reed checked her seatbelt just to be on the safe side. Luckily, they weren’t that far away from the bunker. And honestly, she was too afraid of Dean to insist on driving. And she was ashamed of herself and embarrassed. What on earth had she been thinking? 

 

As soon as Dean hit the brakes in the garage, he found his phone and dialed. 

_“Hi, Dean.”_ She faintly heard Sam’s voice on the other end of the phone and she felt the redness spread over her cheeks. Dean was gonna tell on her. 

“Are you done?” Dean snapped. 

She couldn’t hear what Sam said next. She just heard the buzzing mumbling of a male voice as he had lowered his voice. 

“Well, then wrap it up and come back, you need to have a serious discussion with your little trainee.” Dean sneered and then scowled at Reed, making her duck her head. 

_“What? What are you talking about?”_ She heard Sam exclaim confused in the other end. Reed felt more and more like a child being scolded by its parents.

“I’m talking about her, going out in the middle of the night to summon a crossroads demon she could kill. But instead, she almost ended up being the one getting killed and probably would’ve been dead by now if I hadn't been there.” There was a short pause where she heard Sam mumble something and then Dean said, “Okay. See ya.” And then he hung up. 

 

The scotch made it easy for Dean to hold on to the anger. It was easier than thinking about what a coward he was, but the booze enhanced his temper and he couldn’t stop yelling at Reed. For every second he kept yelling and scolding the more the anger consumed him and his failed attempt earlier traveled to the back of his consciousness. 

He got out of the thunderbird and slammed the door after him. The force it took to slam it sent him reeling to the side and he had to grab onto the roof of the car to regain what was left of his balance. 

As he made his way to the passenger’s side, Reed still hadn't got out. She sat there with ducked head, looking like a puppy that had just been caught peeing on the floor, and was perfectly aware of how much trouble it was in. So he ripped the door open. “Get out!” He yelled. Like a shadow, she sneaked out and with quiet steps followed suit. 

“How-how did you find me?” She stutteringly whispered before they had made it out of the garage. 

Dean stopped in his tracks with a hand on the handle to the bunker. “I was in the area and I heard someone scream.” He snapped acerbically. The truth was, he recognized the scream. Because _he_ had once made her scream like that. Scream in fear, and pain, and terror. He would be able to recognize every single one of his victim’s screams. He heard them every night in his dreams since he became a human again. 

She was so stupid. Sam had done so much to save her from _him_. And she just threw it all away. It would all be a waste if she had gotten herself killed tonight after everything Sam had done. Sam was the reason she was alive. Sam had torn her from his claws where she sooner or later would have ended up dead. But she didn’t. She was saved as the only one. She deserved to live. He didn’t. 

As he walked through the door, he grabbed onto Reed’s upper arm and dragged her with him to the kitchen. 

On the way, she came with a few half-hearted protests, “Ow! Let go! I can walk by myself! Where’re we going? What’re you doing?” 

“You need to get that wound checked!” He barked at her as they entered the kitchen. “Sit!” He demanded, but it was needless, as he had already pushed her onto one of the chairs. In one of the cupboards, he found a first aid kit and put it on the table with a lot more force than needed. Dean ripped her jacket to the side so he could get a proper look at her wound. 

“Ow! You don’t have to do it so hard. Ow!” Reed whined, but it was clear her temper was flaring up too. 

“Shut up!” He shouted and started cleaning the wound. Reed scowled at him with an increasingly redder face. Her scowling was only interrupted when she flinched as the alcohol wipe he cleaned the wound with stung. Dean knew he was treating her roughly, but the scotch made him lose his judgment and feeling of how hard he was with her. Instead of feeling bad and guilty about his hard handling of her, he began yelling instead, “Do you know how lucky you are to be alive? After everything Sam has done for you, you just piss on him by doing something so stupid as you did tonight! I almost hope he slaps you for the stupidity you’ve shown! This isn’t for fun! Demons aren’t just for fun! They’re dangerous creatures! You weren’t ready for it and I bet Sam will tell you the same! How did you even come up with it? What the fuck went through your stupid head?”

“Stop calling me stupid!” Reed screamed and tore her arm out of his grip. 

“No, I will not!” Dean screamed back and grabbed onto her arm again to bandage it. “I will not because you are the most fucking stupid woman I’ve ever come across.” He had lowered his voice slightly, but it was still a lot over normal conversation level. 

“No, I’m not! Sam said I should consider coming with him next time he got a demon on his hands.” She defended herself. Instead of looking like a puppy that had done something wrong, she was starting to look like a kid who felt utterly wronged. It was clear she thought she had received the right amount of scolding. 

But it was far from enough. How could she endanger herself like that after everything? How could she throw something so precious away so easily? She was the only one who had survived him. 

“Yes, you are! And I bet Sam didn’t mean right now because you’re not ready! Not at all! You’ve clearly shown that tonight!” Dean felt it hard to concentrate on not putting the bandage on too tightly when they were yelling like this at each other. 

“Okay, I get it!” She snapped and flung her arms out in an overly annoyed gesture. 

“You sure? Because you have to be pretty stupid to do it in the first place!” Dean retorted. 

“Stop calling me fucking stupid!” Her yelling was reaching a hysterical note. 

“But you _are_ stupid! You’re a freaking danger magnet! See how easily I tricked you when I was a demon! And you know why? Because you’re too stupid!” He spat back at her just as he finished wrapping the bandage around her shoulder. 

 

“ _I’m_ too stupid because _you_ tricked me?” Reed sneered outraged. She could feel how the fury was about to reach the boiling point in her. Fine, she needed to be scolded and it was a stupid stunt, but she didn’t need to hear it fifty-fucking-thousand times in a row! She got the point half an hour ago!

So she mercilessly continued her rebuke in an attempt to shut him up. “You were a fucking demon! Waltzing around pretending to be a really nice guy, but it was all an act! Underneath that charming well-played surface, you were rotten! A demon! A monster! A criminal who raped me! I bet I wasn’t the first!” She couldn’t stop herself now where she first got going. While she had spoken, she had gotten to her feet. She knew she was like a broken plate running in the same groove when it came to this subject like all the times he had tried to confront her and give her his petty, worthless excuses and apologies. But she had every right! Living under the same roof with her rapist, however changed he might be, was the hardest thing she had ever done. 

She reveled in how her words hurt him. She used her words as if they were knives. She watched and enjoyed how every word, every sentence made him flinch. See him cower under her. How his eyes flickered and were filled with guilt. And as the silence continued, she knew she was right. She wasn’t the first, and wouldn’t have been the last if he hadn't been cured. The answer laid in his eyes. When she spoke again, her voice was lower but filled to the breaking point with contempt, “Thought so. You’re disgusting. You shouldn’t be allowed to still be here. You don’t deserve to live.” 

Dean inhaled a shaking breath as his gaze dropped to the floor. “You’re…” He gulped and trailed off in a choked up voice. Then he took another shaking breath. “You’re right.” It sounded as if he was on the verge of sobbing. After swallowing thickly, he determined walked the few steps over to her. 

By reflex, Reed grabbed the handle of the angle blade that was tucked down in her jeans behind her back. But in a second, Dean grabbed onto her right wrist, twisted her arm until she whined, and quickly ripped the blade out of her hand before letting her go and took a step back. 

Her eyes had just begun searching anxiously for another weapon in the kitchen, still slightly startled by how easily Dean had disarmed her. But instead of attacking, Dean sunk to his knees and held the handle of the blade towards her. “You’re right.” He whispered in a trembling voice. “Please… kill me…” He whispered even more pained. 

Reed stood immovable and just stared at him. His head was bowed and he still held the blade toward her. His ‘request’ had taken her by surprise and thrown her off balance. A minute ago, he had been so angry. Now, he was so devastated. 

“It’s just you and me here. Alone. Don’t worry about Sam. I’ve already written a note. It’s in my room under my pillow. Please just do it. I deserve it.” Dean begged on the verge of tearing up, still with bowed head as if he couldn’t even look at her. 

Reed was confused. They were alone? Where was Cass? Did Dean really want this? But even though she hesitated for several seconds, he didn’t move a muscle. He just sat there, awaiting, ready. Nothing suggested he had the slightest doubts about that this was what he wanted. 

Then she snapped out of it and something else took over. He did deserve it. There must still have been a part of him that had been _him_ when he was a demon. She couldn’t believe that demon Dean and now-human Dean was 100% different. They had something in common. Maybe the demon part just enhanced the bad, rotten parts of him. 

Her fingers wrapped around the handle of the blade. When he felt her hold on the knife, his hand fell to his side, but other than that, he didn’t move an inch. With her left hand, she grabbed onto his hair and ripped his head back, exposing his neck, and put the blade to his throat, right under his left ear. 

A half-sigh, half-moan came from Dean when he felt the cold steel on his skin and he closed his eyes. To Reed, he looked relieved. 

With clenched teeth, she pressed the blade so hard against his skin, it punctured it, and a single drop of blood trickled down his neck. Reed had to admit she had dreamed of this. Dreamed of killing him for all the pain he had caused her, and now he was literally begging her to do it. Her hand holding the angel blade only waited for the last command from her. It was ready to slit his throat and end all this. A part of her was sure she would sleep like a baby if she knew Dean would never walk the face of the earth again. 

“Do it,” Dean begged in a tearful whisper. His green eyes looked up at her as a couple of tears brimmed over in his eyes and ran down his cheeks. 

In his eyes, deep inside them, she saw something. Something that made a piece of her wrench free and it drifted away from her. Just like it had done when he had cornered her right here in the kitchen and yelled he was sorry, that he blamed himself, that he felt remorse, that he wished he could take it back, that he would undo it no matter the consequences. 

It was something just as important that drifted away from her as when she, for the first time, had seen Dean’s remorseful face instead of the man that had raped her. She thought she could do this. She thought that this was what she wanted, but it wasn’t. She couldn’t do it. In this moment, she realized it might have been the same face that raped her, but not the same person. In front of her was a broken man, not a malicious monster. That he was willing to die for the misdeeds he had made as a demon proved exactly how filled with remorse and guilt he was. 

He didn’t deserve it. He was beaten and broken. And she refused to kick someone who was already down. The tears welled up in her eyes and she suppressed the urge to stroke his cheek and comfort him. Instead, she threw the angel blade to the floor and ran sobbing out of the kitchen. 

 

Dean sighed heavily as he realized Reed wasn’t going to do it. He had seen it in her eyes, but he had hoped right up until she let him go and ran away and left him alone on the floor in the kitchen. 

When he had handed her the blade, it had felt right. She should be the one to kill him because she was the last and only survivor of him. A few of the girls had survived one encounter with him, but he always got them in the end. The little church girl hadn't kept her mouth shut, so he had paid her another visit. The freaky girl, Kathleen, well, she was a different story, but she was also dead now. They were all dead. And that was why it was only fair that one of his victims got the ‘honor’ of taking his life. Or it wasn’t really a privilege to take his life, it was the opposite, but nonetheless, Reed deserved to be the one doing it. He had it coming. But she disappointed him. He was sure she would do it. And could do it. He needed her to do it because he couldn’t do it himself. He was a coward. He wasn’t strong enough. 

For a moment, he had thought he would be free. Free of this pain he felt. The pain, remorse, and guilt that had consumed him. He was nothing but a shadow of himself. He was a waste of a man. Every breath he took was a waste of oxygen. He had been relieved when she had pressed the blade to his throat and he thought she would kill him. It would finally be over. It had finally got an end. But she wasn’t strong enough either. 

Reed had thrown the angel blade to the floor right in front of him. His right hand wrapped around the handle and pressed it to his throat. Right on top of the cut Reed had made when she pressed it to his skin. Another drop of blood rolled down his skin and tickled him. As he pressed harder, his hand shook and a sob escaped him. But he clenched his teeth and heaved in a strengthened but trembling breath through his nose. Now it wasn’t only his hand that shook, but his whole body. 

He couldn’t do it. Heavily panting he let go of the blade and it fell clattering onto the floor. With a sob, he bent over and his hands sought support on the floor. The steely ropes of guilt and remorse were crushing him. He couldn’t take it anymore, but he was a coward. The shame of being too weak added to everything, and he couldn’t breathe. Every breath was a half-sob, half-gasp as the tears ran on their own accord down his cheeks.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now I made an FB page so you can stay updated on your favorite stories: [Here](https://www.facebook.com/Rrated26/?fref=ts)  
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Reed hurried to her room and hid under the covers on her bed. The last couple of minutes kept rummaging in her mind and she couldn’t control the shaking of her hands. A realization hit her like a fist in the stomach – she had just been seconds away from killing another person. What was wrong with her? 

The events in the last ten minutes had pushed her ridiculous demon stunt earlier to the back of her head. She couldn’t believe she had been so close to killing a human being. Was she really filled with this much hate that she would take another person’s life and become a criminal? 

No. No, she promised herself that she wouldn’t. Her life was ruined enough as it was. She didn’t need to sink to the same level as a monster. 

She couldn’t control the shaking, the tears that streamed down her face or the sobbing that broke free from her throat. Reed continued to relive what had happened in the kitchen. She had no control over it. The little film just kept rolling on repeat in her head until she was physically and emotionally exhausted and drifted into a restless sleep. 

 

He had managed to drag himself to his room. To hide. And to drink. Dean didn’t know what else to do with himself. There was no escape from what he had done and how he had failed because he was a coward. The steely ropes tightened once again on him. 

Welling in his pain and self-pity, he drank, but the relieving effect of the alcohol didn’t come as quickly as he needed. He paced the floor with the bottle of scotch in left hand, taking a sip for every couple of steps, and Reed’s angel blade in his right. Not that he intended to use it, but it shouldn’t just lie in the kitchen. Sam would ask questions if it laid in the middle of the kitchen floor and Dean didn’t want that. 

Pacing past the mirror, he took a few steps back to look at himself. _I look like shit_ , he thought to himself. His eyes were red, there were dark circles under his eyes, and his face was pallid. Then he noticed the streaks of blood on his neck from the wound the knife had made. It didn’t bleed anymore, but it had left a dark stain on the collar of his flannel. Throwing the shirt to the overfilled laundry basket, he wetted a cloth and removed the blood streaks on his skin. When the cloth touched the cut, Dean inhaled sharply, but then welcomed the physical pain. It was so much easier to cope with than the pain he was feeling inside. 

Before he was done cleaning his neck, his sight became blurred and he had a hard time seeing if all the blood was gone. “That have to be enough.” He mumbled slurred, threw the cloth in the brimming laundry basket, and took a swig from the bottle he was still holding. 

Dean meant to sit down on the bed, but misjudged the distance and landed on the floor instead. With a tired sigh, he leaned his back against the side of the bed, emptied the bottle, and found a new one under the bed. 

He drank until he passed out on the floor. 

 

A knock on the door made Reed jump and quickly put on her tank top. Was Sam home already? 

When she had made sure she was both wearing a top and a pair of sweatpants, she yelled, “Come in.” The door opened, but it wasn’t Sam, it was Dean. He looked like he hadn't slept for three weeks and needed a shower. The events of last night flooded her mind in seconds and she lost her breath. 

“I-I just wanted to give you this.” He mumbled in a low voice. He only looked at her shortly before his gaze dropped to the floor. In his hand, he was holding her angel blade, shaft first as if he expected her to come and take it from him. 

The overwhelming hurricane of thoughts and flashes of memories made her hesitate for a moment. Pulling herself together, she walked over to take the blade from him. “Thank you.” 

“You’re welcome.” He whispered, still with bowed head. 

“Dean?” Reed called hesitantly when he had turned around and walked a few steps. As he turned around to face her, his green eyes found hers for a moment before he avoided them and looked to the side instead. 

“Thank you for… yesterday.” She said earnestly though the words were about to fail her. 

“Don’t mention it.” Dean quickly said before he spun around and started walking. 

“Wait!” Reed called and ran a few steps down the hall to catch up with his long strides. 

To her relief, he stopped in his tracks, but this time he didn’t turn around to face her. “What?” He asked so low, she could barely hear it. 

She swallowed loudly before she managed to get the words past her throat. “Are you… okay?” She had to ask. A part of her was worried about him, though she couldn’t find a rational way to explain it. Not even to herself – she just was. 

Dean turned his head enough for her to see him clench his jaw, but not enough to catch his eyes. He heaved in a trembling breath before he whispered full of determination, “A monster can't be okay.” 

Stunned, Reed kept standing in the hall and watched him walk out of her sight. A seed of guilt built and unfolded in her stomach while she frantically chewed on her lower lip until she tasted blood. First then, she could escape the roots that kept her there and walked back to her room. 

After closing the door, she kept standing there. She was still holding the angel blade in her right hand, but she didn’t notice. Her mind was a jumble of thoughts and feelings until one thing clearly cut through. _He’s just broken_. As soon as the realization had echoed through her head, the seed of guilt unfolded and bloomed in her chest. 

Suddenly restless, she threw the knife on her bed and hurried to the punching bag where she beat and kicked it until the sweat was hailing from her and her muscles were permeated. As she could barely lift her arms for another hit, she slid to sit on the floor with her back against the wall. 

_What if I’m too hard on him?_ She couldn’t stop the question from verbalizing in her mind. She had gone through something horrible that had changed her forever, but she was slowly getting better. Dean only seemed to get worse. 

She had to admit that she had depicted him as the devil himself, but now she knew that he was just a person – like her. A part of her wanted to remind her that demon Dean and now-human Dean must share something. But she had to admit the truth. No living person was 100% good. No one could be, it was too hard. Could a person be solely evil? Maybe. 

Reed felt a headache sneak in on her and she rubbed her temples with a sigh. Soon she would have to face Sam. She just hoped he wouldn’t yell as much as Dean, and call her stupid as many times as Dean. Maybe she should get some sleep before receiving her well-deserved reprimand. 

 

Dean had a towel over his shoulder when he walked out of his door and headed for the shower. As he rounded a corner, he nearly walked into someone. “Sorr– Sam? Hey.” Dean quickly plastered a feigned smile on his lips as he saw his brother. “Did you handle the vamp situation?” 

“Hey. Yeah, no problem. Where’s Cass?” The first was absentmindedly. At the second sentence, Sam’s brow furrowed. 

“Oh, um…” Dean uncomfortably scratched the back of his neck. “He, uh, had some angel business to take care of. I said we would be fine. That Reed was safe with me, but I guess I was wrong as she snuck out on me.” He shrugged and looked guiltily up at his brother. 

“You don’t say.” Sam sighed and his frown deepened. 

“Well, I was on my way to take a shower. I think Reed’s in her room.” Dean hastily said and walked past Sam. 

“Hey, what’s that?” Sam grabbed onto Dean’s upper arm as he passed him and pointed to the cut on his neck. 

“Nicked myself while shaving.” Dean quickly lied while avoiding his brother’s pointing eyes. 

“It’s a pretty big nick,” Sam noted dryly. He could easily hear he didn’t believe him. 

“Well, it hurt pretty much too.” Dean nearly snapped, pulled his arm free of Sam’s grip, and walked away from him. He could feel the power of Sam’s puppy eyes on his neck until he rounded the next corner. 

 

When Reed woke again after her nap, her head was throbbing and her stomach growled. As she sat up, she felt the soreness in her muscles. The clock told her it was already 8 p.m. Though she had slept much longer than she had planned to, she decided it didn’t matter. She stretched and headed for the kitchen where she drank two glasses of water and made herself a sandwich. 

In the doorway to the main room, she nearly dropped the plate. Startled to find someone sitting in one of the chairs around the table. 

“We need to talk.” Sam tried to sound strict, but he couldn’t hide the worry in his features. 

“Yeah…” Reed made it sound like a sigh as she sat down next to him and started nibbling at her sandwich. 

“Are you okay?” Sam surprised her by asking and put a hand on her shoulder. She had expected him to start his reprimand right away. 

“Yeah. Thanks to Dean, I am.” She answered honestly. Her eyes were mostly fixated at her ham and cheese sandwich, but she stole a glance now and then at Sam, who still looked like he tried to be strict, but really was like a worried parent. “I’m sorry. It was stupid.” Reed admitted and met Sam’s eyes. 

“Yes, it was.” He raised his eyebrows as if it was the understatement of the year. “What were you thinking?” He didn’t yell like Dean. He asked if he was truly curious and not meant as a condescending statement. 

“Honestly?” She asked while chewing on her lip to buy some time. 

“Honestly.” Sam sent her an encouraging smile. 

Reed put the sandwich down and took a few steadying breaths before answering. “I feel weak. And inadequate. I wanted to prove to myself that I could do something instead of just getting paralyzed by fear. The plan seemed much better in my head. I just thought that if I could do this, I would never doubt that I was able to defend myself. But I was wrong. I couldn’t defend myself.” The tears rose in her eyes as she told the truth. “I’m weak and pathetic. And I’m afraid I’ll live in fear for the rest of my life.” She hastened to add before Sam got the chance to speak. The tears brimmed over in her eyes and she angrily wiped them away with the back of her hand. 

First after she had control of the tears and forced them back, she met Sam’s gaze. His greenish-brown eyes were filled with compassion and understanding.

“You’re not weak.” He said determinedly and then paused to let the words settle. Reed vaguely nodded, but Sam made her stop. “No. You’re not weak. You’re strong. You survived something horrible and you decided to fight back. You just need more training to be ready.” 

The power and conviction in his voice and words made her feel better. Made her believe him and the lump in her throat slowly dissolved. 

“I just feel like I’ve been at it for so long. I should be ready by now.” Reed stubbornly said. It felt like she had been in the bunker for a year. Cut off from the real world. The real world where her family, her friends, her job, and her life waited. She wanted to go back to it, but she couldn’t make herself do it before she knew she could protect herself. 

“You’re too hard on yourself.” Sam stroked her back to comfort her. “You’re doing great. It takes some time to get ready for this kind of thing, but you’ve already gone far. Cut yourself some slack.” She could hear the smile in his voice. Honestly, she thought he would have been a lot madder at her. 

“I’m too hard on myself?” Reed snapped. It wasn’t because she was angry with him, she was angry with herself. “No, I’m not hard enough.”

“Come on, you’re doing great…” Sam pulled her into his embrace, but before he could say more, she pulled back. 

“No, Sam. I’m not.” She shook her head to underline her words. “Right now, I could be a victim again. I almost became one last night. Again. Yes, I was stupid, but… God… Sam, what do you expect from me after a monster attacked me? Of course, I’m scared. It’s not just something you overcome in a few weeks. You say I’m strong? Well, I don’t think I’m strong enough. I won't be satisfied until I don’t need you to save my ass. That’s a fact and I know it in my heart.” Everything she had held back came to the surface. As soon as she said the words, she felt how true they were. She could see Sam wasn’t agreeing with her. His eyes were still as compassionate as ever, but it was clear he was getting ready to tell her differently. She could see the reprimand she had expected was building in him, albeit it wasn’t for the reason she thought she would get it. 

A bump and someone cursing made both their heads snap to the open door leading to the hallway with the rooms. 

Reed covered her mouth, instantly aware of how her words could have been interpreted out of context. When she said monster, she didn’t refer to Dean, she referred to a demon – in general. 

“I’m-I’m sorry. I’ll go talk to him.” She hastily said as she got up, and before Sam could object, she was already running down the hallway. 

 

It hadn't been Dean’s intention to overhear Sam and Reed’s conversation. He didn’t know they were in there. As he had turned around, he had heard Reed tell his brother how weak and inadequate she felt, and he couldn’t help himself from listening. Her words surprised him because to him, she didn’t seem either weak or inadequate. She seemed strong, determined, though maybe stupid sometimes, but filled with a strength he envied her. 

When he heard her say, _Sam, what do you expect from me after a monster attacked me?_ He had heard enough. She was right, and he deeply regretted the pain he had brought her. He had changed her life forever. He only deserved to drink himself to death and then end up in hell. Even if that meant he had to make a special deal with Crowley, he was determined to go to hell for his sins and misdeeds. With a sight blurred of tears, his shoulder collided with the doorframe to the first room. “Son of a bitch.” He cursed under his breath and hurried to his room, praying that they hadn't caught him lurking and eavesdropping. 

Hurrying to his room, he rummaged under his bed to find a bottle of vodka. It had a higher alcohol percentage, and he needed that right now. As he sat down on the edge of the bed, he let it all unravel. Everything he had done. Even in his awake state, he heard their screams. He tried to drown every one of them with the vodka. Maybe he should get a hold of Crowley and make him take him right there and then. 

Someone knocked on the door and he was just about to stow the bottle of vodka away when the door immediately opened. 

It was her… 

Quickly, he wiped his wet cheeks while pretending to cough, but he could see that she noticed. 

“What I said to Sam… it wasn’t all true…” She began and then chewed on her lip as if she didn’t know how to go on from there. 

“Yes, it was. I am a monster.” He harshly insisted and took a huge swig from the bottle in his hand.

A deep frown was appearing on her otherwise smooth forehead as she continued to chew on her lower lip. Dean’s gaze dropped to the floor and kept his eyes fixated on the floor. Partially hoping she would go away and leave him to his misery. Instead, she sighed deeply. 

“Not anymore…” She whispered. 

Dean let out a scoff. How could she of all people say that? It was an act. She was just trying to make him feel better because he had, to his regret, showed her how low he had sunk into this black hole of despair. 

 

It was clear by the harsh scoff Dean let out that he didn’t believe her words, but Reed ignored it. Instead, she closed the door behind her, walked to the bed where she sat down at the foot of it with crossed legs. Reed took the bottle out of his hand. Dean tried to protest when she put it to her lips but fell silent as the liquid poured down her throat. It stung all the way down and she could even feel it in her nose. As she lowered the bottle, she coughed so her shoulder shook and the vodka splashed in the bottle. 

“God, how can you drink it like this?” She asked high-pitched, still coughing and cringing as she wiped her mouth. 

“It’s a monster trick.” Dean sneered and took the bottle back. He took a sip without batting an eye. But she could see the hurt in his eyes though he tried to disguise it and drown it with booze.

“When I said monster, I didn’t mean you. I was talking about demons in general.” Reed blurted out so fast, she stumbled over the words. 

“Right.” Dean scoffed and took another swig. Reed didn’t know if she should be impressed or worried that he could chug the vodka down so easily. 

“I’m gonna need more if we’re doing this.” She snapped and ripped the bottle from his hand though he tried to keep it to himself. 

“Doing what?” He snapped back. Clearly annoyed that she was hogging the booze.

“Getting past this.” Reed coughed and tried with futility to keep a straight face, but it was impossible with the strong and fiery taste burning all the way down to her stomach. 

Dean swallowed loudly as he turned his head away from her. She could see he opened his mouth to say something, but not a sound emerged. Swallowing again, it looked like he composed himself, and asked, “How?” 

Honestly, she didn’t know. To prolong the silence, she took another swig from the bottle and cringed as she suppressed a cough. Reed chewed on her lip as she thought. Dean didn’t seem impatient by her hesitation. 

“Talking.” She finally said with a shrug. There wasn’t anything else to do. Dean nodded but it was clear he didn’t believe it would help. 

“Why’re you drinking?” Reed tried another approach. “Honestly.” Her voice was sharper now. 

“Honestly?” He scoffed, took the bottle from her hands, and drank. “To drown the screams.” His voice was so low Reed leaned closer to hear him. The blooming guilt in her chest increased by his words, and she didn’t know what to say or do with his truly honest confession. 

Thinking about it for a moment, she realized there was nothing she could say. Instead, she offered him a piece of truth as well. “I have nightmares.”

“Me too,” Dean whispered. He let his free hand run over his face and into his hair, but she got a glimpse of the tear that escaped his eye. An overwhelming urge to comfort and hold him washed over her. Just like it had done when they had been in the kitchen right before she had thrown the angel blade to the floor and stormed out. 

“It’s gonna be okay.” She said consolingly. Her hand reached for his shoulder, then stopped. Only hesitating for a second before she put her hand on his shoulder and stroked him with her thumb. She had expected to feel something. Something bad like disgust or repulsion by touching him, but she didn’t. 

“No, it’s not.” The words were nearly inaudible, but he put his hand on top of hers and drank from the bottle. 

When he handed it to her, she took it and drank several mouthfuls. Shortly, she wondered when she would start to feel the effects of this. 

It was clear to her how lost from the world he was, and the urge to comfort him arose in her again with renewed strength, dulling the guilt that had unfolded in her chest. Reed scooted closer, replaced her hand on his shoulder with her cheek, and put her arms around him. 

At first, it was as if her touch hurt him. He gasped, stiffened, and then moved uncomfortably, but then sighed and rested his head against the top of hers. 

Again, Reed had expected to feel something. Just something. A little hesitation, or doubt, or that it on some level felt wrong. But there was nothing. This was like hugging Sam. There was no difference. 

Then it dawned on her why they felt so alike. Since Dean had saved her from that demon, she had unconsciously associated him with the same safeness Sam possessed. Which made it all a lot more tragic. Now she didn’t have one security blanket – she had two. Dean and Sam were two sides of the same piece. Saving people from monsters wasn’t just Sam’s job. It was Dean’s job too. How many had he saved before going bad? Probably more than she could count. 

The guilt flamed up in her again and made her whisper, “It’s gonna be all right.” A strand of her blonde hair caught in the tear that left her eye. Reed straightened up and wanted to remove it, but sitting still had deceived how affected she was by the alcohol already and lost balance. Her back bounced on the bed and she hopelessly tried to camouflage a giggle. A real spontaneous one for the first time in forever. Her intense speculating had disguised how fuzzy her thoughts were already. 

“Uh, what’re you doing?” Dean asked a bit slurred as he looked over his shoulder with a raised eyebrow. Clearly confused by her sudden and drastic change. 

“Uh, being drunk.” She scoffed, but the tips of her lips pointed upwards. Her words were slurred though much worse than his. 

“Lightweight.” He mumbled and emptied the bottle before placing it on the floor, and let himself bounce down on the bed next to her. 

“Come on. We just shared a whole bottle of vodka in like half an hour.” Reed exclaimed with a smile. Which reminded her that she hadn't finished her sandwich. Almost empty stomach plus alcohol was a bad combination. 

“That’s what I said. Lightweight.” Up until now, they had both stared at the ceiling. Now, Dean turned his head to look at her. Around his lips was a faint trace of a smile pulling the corner of his lips upwards. It hit her that this was probably the first time she had seen a hint of a smile from him since he was cured. 

“Not all people drown their problems in a bottle.” It wasn’t until she had said it, she realized how harsh it sounded. Biting her lower lip, she glanced at Dean to her left. The trace of a smile was gone. Instead, his forehead was furrowed. 

“Sorry. It wasn’t meant like that.” Reed quickly apologized. The guilt bloomed again in her chest. 

“You’re right.” His tone was a dry statement. 

“You need to stop beating yourself up, you know.” With everything in her, she tried to make her tone as gentle as possible, but the finer things were escaping her as the alcohol took over. She repositioned herself so she was lying on her side facing him. 

Dean sighed heavily and continued to stare at the ceiling. The furrow on his forehead deepened and Reed could see the hurt in his eyes as clear as a crystal. 

“No.” He whispered.

Dean barely finished the word before she had said, “Yes,” in the most stubborn and determined voice. 

Dean turned to his side to face her. His sudden movement startled her, but because of the alcohol, her delayed responses made her able to stop her body from flinching. 

“You don’t know what I’ve done.” His voice was harsh and filled with remorse. To take the edge off his tone, his thumb gently stroked her right cheek, but he quickly withdrew his hand when he saw Reed’s blue eyes stare at his hand. A warmth lingered to her skin where his thumb had stroked her. It hadn't been an objection when she eyed his hand. It was curiosity and a slight caution. 

She shook her head and collected her thoughts that weren’t completely ruined by the fuzziness the booze caused. “Maybe not everything, but I know enough.” Her tone was reasonable. 

“That’s worse enough…” His words grew weaker until they were inaudible as his gaze dropped from hers, but a second before she got a glimpse of how vulnerable he was. She couldn’t stop herself even if she wanted. He was so beaten and broken with no one to comfort him. The booze also made sure she didn’t think completely clearly and removed her inhibitions. 

Reed put her arms around him and scooted closer. Again, Dean gasped, stiffened, and moved uncomfortably as if her touch hurt him. She held him tightly to her chest and rested her chin on top of his head. 

Hesitantly, he put his left arm around her midsection and let out a trembling sigh. It wasn’t until she felt something wet on her chest that she realized he was crying silently. 

“It’s gonna be okay.” She whispered in his hair. The only response she got was a light shake of his shoulders, indicating a sob rippling through him. 

Reed didn’t know for how long they laid like this. It could have been half an hour. It could have been three. But the longer it went on, the more comfortable she felt. It felt safe, and giving someone the comfort they needed, aided the guilt in her chest until it was put to sleep. The alcohol and the late hours made her eyelids heavy. She tried to fight it and wondered if Dean was still awake. She didn’t know, and she was too tired and too drunk to lift her head to look, but the drops of tears on her skin had stopped a little while ago. 

Before she could stop it, her eyes closed and she fell asleep.


	15. Chapter 15

The first thing Reed noticed when she woke was a pounding headache. She wanted to hide under the covers and escape into sleep again, but her mouth was as dry as Sahara. Opening her eyes, she realized she wasn’t in her own room. 

“Fuck,” Reed mumbled and then let out a small groan as her headache increased. 

After closing her eyes to rub them, she now noticed that somehow, they were lying right in the bed and not across, and the duvet was covering them both. Her eyes darted to her left where she found Dean next to her, lying with his naked back toward her. 

“Shit,” Reed exclaimed under her breath as she lifted the duvet, unsure if she was prepared for what she would find, but she had panicked for no reason. Under the duvet, she was still wearing her clothes and she sighed in relief. For a moment, she had thought… that they… god, she could barely form the words in her mind. Then she pulled herself together. For a moment, she thought they’d had stupid, inappropriate drunk sex. But they hadn't, so she could relax. Sex hadn't been on her mind since… _that_ night, and she wasn’t sure when she would be ready for that again. But as she relaxed, Reed felt how hot she was. There was actually a damp layer clinging to her skin. No wonder Dean had gotten rid of his shirt during the night. 

Slowly, Reed sat up and peeked over Dean’s shoulder. He was still asleep. She found herself relieved by that fact. Suddenly, last night felt… odd. They’ve gotten drunk, Dean had cried, and she had held and comforted him. It had been so… private. He had completely let the façade crumbled and let her see how he truly felt. He had exposed himself, albeit unintentionally – she didn’t know for sure, it just happened, and they had been drunk – but she had seen how vulnerable he was. It was like seeing someone naked unintentionally and then there was the awkward dance afterward where you really couldn’t look properly at each other without the knowledge that you’ve seen someone – or been seen – naked without wanting too. 

She wasn’t the person Dean should bare himself too. They barely knew each other. It should have been Sam. He’s his brother. His family. Sam was supposed to comfort him and support him and help him through this. Not her. She was barely through her own trauma, so how could she be strong enough to carry him through his? 

Sam. Sam was strong enough for this. He was his brother. It’s his job as a brother, as his family, to be there for him. Not hers. 

Her headache had reached her teeth now. Reed sighed and discreetly sneaked out of bed without waking Dean. As she silently closed the door behind her, she breathed yet another sigh of relief. She had already lost count on how many it had been since she woke up. But nonetheless, she was relieved by her easy getaway. Reed wasn’t sure she could face Dean yet after what happened last night. 

 

In the kitchen, Reed drank two glasses of water before she began searching for aspirins. When she finally found them, she flushed them down with two more glasses of water and decided to get some breakfast. Though her stomach didn’t seem ready, Reed was ready to occupy herself with some training, and that wasn’t ideal on an empty stomach. 

As she ate, her nausea took it down a couple of notches as her headache settled into a less pounding one. 

 

Two hours later, Sam found her dancing around the punching bag like it was an opponent with the angel blade in her hand. 

“Hey,” Reed lowered her guards and wiped the sweat from her forehead. 

“Hey.” Sam greeted. 

“I apologized. We’re… good.” Reed hastily said with her blue gaze directed at the floor before Sam could say anything else. She didn’t want to talk about it or have Sam asking probing questions. 

“Uh, okay.” He said surprised with a raised eyebrow, but it quickly turned into a surprised smile before he changed the subject, “The MG is missing. I suppose you know where it is?” There wasn’t any blame in his tone, just a declarative statement. 

“Yeah, I do.” Reed bowed her head in shame as the reason why it was missing washed over her. 

Sam wasn’t affected by her sudden embarrassment. He simply asked, “Wanna help me get it?” 

 

“Wait,” Sam said when Reed’s hand laid on the handle of the Thunderbird. She had shown the way and now they were parked in the dirt of the road behind the MG. 

Reed’s hand fell from the handle and forced herself to look up at Sam. She could feel the reprimand she had waited on was about to come, making her chew nervously on her lower lip. 

“No more demon hunting on your own, okay?” Again, Sam had that ‘worried parent’ look. His voice wasn’t sharp or reproving, just… protective was what came to her mind. 

She felt her cheeks flush with a new round of embarrassment. Sam’s worry and disappointment, though the last she could see he tried to hide, was actually worse than Dean’s extensive yelling. 

“Okay.” She whispered with bowed head before stepping out. 

 

A lot had happened since her stupid demon stunt, but as she drove the MG back to the bunker, she let every single piece of her stupidity come forward in her mind. That led to Dean coming to her aid, and just before her thoughts reached the events in the kitchen, she parked in the garage, and she was able to stop her train of thoughts. 

“You know what?” Sam asked as she got out of the MG. She had driven behind him all the way back. 

“What?” She asked confused, but also curious as his tone was no way near worrying or disappointed, but was more carefree and cheerful. 

“You wanna go out?” He asked and opened the door on the driver’s side of the Thunderbird. 

“Go out?” Now she was perplexed, as she didn’t know what he meant. Go out where? And why? She couldn’t connect it as part of her training, and she doubted there was any demon hunting involved. So why leave the bunker if there wasn’t a purpose? 

“Yeah, get out of here, get some lunch?” 

Reed didn’t need more than a second to accept Sam’s offer. Getting away from the bunker, her – temporarily, though – new life and setting did seem like a good idea, after all. It did seem to have a purpose – to get her mind off of the serious and dark clouds of insecurity, fear, knowledge of demons and monsters, and what else, that had covered her conscience the last few weeks. 

 

Sam found a cozy and casual restaurant where Reed didn’t feel out of place in her sweatpants. She had to admit the change of scenery was nice and she welcomed it with open arms. Trusting Sam’s judgment that she needed this. And Sam didn’t mention Dean, the bunker, demon hunting or hunting in general. They just talked about completely normal, everyday things. 

For the first time in a long time, Reed felt more like herself. She felt normal. She hadn't realized how completely isolated she had been in the bunker. And a simple interaction like ordering her food felt like she hadn't talked to a human being in months. Though she felt silly. Of course, there was Sam and Cass to talk to and… Dean. But for weeks, she had barely been outside of her little safe bubble in the bunker. Now, she enjoyed the fresh air and everything didn’t seem as scary as she thought the ‘real’ world would be after discovering demons. 

 

Dean sat up with a sharp intake of breath. The last scream still rang before his ears. He shook his head and rubbed his eyes to get rid of it and then bits and pieces of what happened last night came to his mind. Looking to his right, he saw the bed was empty. His eyes raked his room but found no one. For a few seconds, he wondered if it really happened or if he made it all up. 

Maybe it was just a weird dream, he said to himself. The empty vodka bottle next to the bed told him he could have drunk enough to make something like that up. 

Dean pushed it aside and laid down again. He wasn’t hung over, he was way past that. He was so hardened by now that he couldn’t even remember what it felt like to be completely sober. 

As he turned around and hugged the pillow, ready to stay in bed to escape facing his own reflection, he traced a whiff of something. It only took a second to recognize it as Reed. He had laid for so long in her arms, smelling her, listening to her steady heartbeat. His eyes shot open and everything that happened last night flushed back to him. Every little detail. 

They had talked, shared a bottle of vodka, she had held him so close while he fell apart until he was so exhausted he fell asleep in her arms. In some way, he felt like he should be embarrassed, but he wasn’t. 

He faintly remembered waking up in the middle of the night because his neck was killing him. He had been lying on Reed’s arm. Without waking her, he had lifted her, placed her right in the bed, and tucked her under the covers before he had laid down next to her. And before he fell asleep again, the heat from lying so close to her under the duvet had made him undress to his boxers. 

As he reached under the bed, he wondered where she was. He had just placed the bottle of scotch on his lips when he realized he hadn't woken from a nightmare in the middle of the night. The bottle stopped mid-air before the golden liquid could pour down his throat. He had consequently woken from nightmares since he was cured. But not last night. He couldn’t recall having a nightmare before the pain in his neck woke him. 

Putting the bottle down without taking a sip, Dean felt on the right side of the bed where Reed had been lying. It was cold. It was some time since she had left. He rubbed his temples as he tried to recall the nightmare that woke him. It hadn't felt so long. At least not as long as when he had been tortured all night with endless screams. 

Either he had been dead drunk or sleeping with Reed had held the nightmares and screams at bay. 

After a few moments’ thoughts, he realized he hadn't been that drunk. 

 

“Thanks, Sam. I really needed to get some fresh air.” Reed said earnestly as they walked toward the Thunderbird in the parking lot. 

“No problem.” He said casually as if he didn’t realize how big a deal it was for her. How much it actually meant to her. 

“I mean it. I can't remember the last time I did something… _normal_.” She said the last word like it was a foreign and unknown word to her. Like it had become some form of absurdity in her new life. Or new perspective of the world. 

Sam stopped as they reached the car to face her. He had that parental worrying line between his eyebrows. “I know.” He nodded to underline his words. His tone wasn’t to be mistaken. He knew exactly what she meant. 

His eyes dropped from hers for a second and it looked like he wanted to say something. Reed had never seen him almost struggle for the words as he did now, so she waited patiently and curiously. 

“I tried ‘normal’ once. Tried to go to college and leave hunting behind me, but it always seemed to creep back into my life. In the beginning, I hated it, but now it’s different. It’s part of who I am.” Sam’s greenish-brown eyes were still not looking directly at her. “Um, I guess my point is that ‘normal’ and ‘not-normal’ can be both good and bad. And that it isn’t always as it seems like.” 

Reeds brow furrowed as she tried to understand what he was saying. She wasn’t sure if she interpreted it the way he wanted her to, but she reached the conclusion that her life had been turned upside down – to not-normal – and maybe, in the long run, it could be for the better. 

“So, you wanna get a little more ‘normal?’” A smile breached his serious attitude and his eyes unwaveringly found hers. 

“What do you have in mind?” Reed returned the smile. Actually, she was ready for a little more of the ‘normal.’

“We could catch a movie?” He looked shortly at his watch before returning his gaze to hers to await her answer. 

“I can't remember the last time I went to the movies.” Her smile widened as she basically said yes to Sam’s offer. 

“Then it’s a deal.” Sam winked playfully before walking to the driver’s side of the Thunderbird. 

Reed got in on the passenger’s side only to find Sam staring intensely at his phone as he typed on it. “What’s up?” She asked, already disappointed that something came in their way. 

“Oh, nothing. Just texting Dean that we aren’t home for dinner.” He replied absentmindedly as he kept typing. 

“Okay.” Reed realized she didn’t felt any reluctance toward Dean being mentioned. Not even a little bit of dislike. Instead, her mind filled with the feeling of him crying silently in her arms. She quickly shook her head and overcame it before Sam was done and asked if she was ready for a whole afternoon and night of normal, which made her laugh and temporarily forget about Dean. 

 

At the cinema, Sam let her pick the movie. He didn’t even complain when she suggested a typical ‘chick-flick’ starring Katherine Heigl. Never in her life, she had come across a guy who would watch a chick movie without even batting an eye. Maybe it was because Sam was more sensitive in nature, or maybe he just ran along because he knew this was what she needed to get her batteries recharged. 

After too many popcorns, Coca-Cola, and a quick stop at Sunset Boulevard on their way home, Reed felt more connected to her old life than she had been since she was attacked. It was as if being out gave her new life. Like while she had been in isolation the colors of her world had become dull. Now everything seemed brighter, more colorful.

 

Dean had sat with the open bottle of scotch for a long time. But every time he was about to lead it to his lips, something stopped him. He didn’t know what yet and he didn’t try to find out what it was – it just was. When he finally got tired of contemplating over the bottle and last night’s events, he dragged himself to the bathroom to take a shower and shave. The cut from the knife still hurt, and he had to be careful around it, but he managed to shave without ripping it open. 

When he came back to his room, he saw there was a new message from Sam on his phone. 

**‘Going to the movies with Reed. We’re not home for dinner. –S’**

At first, Dean just shrugged. He wasn’t going to eat anything anyway, but then the meaning of the text reached him. _Going to the movies with Reed._ And an unexpected pang of jealousy hit him. He didn’t know why, or why he even cared, but he did. 

“Oh, what the heck.” He mumbled as he reached under the bed for the scotch, screwed the cap off, and took a couple of mouthfuls. 

 

On the way back to the bunker, Reed felt fulfilled in a way she couldn’t explain. She was reminded that the world wasn’t as scary as she had depicted it in her isolation after her demon attack. There wasn’t demons and monsters lurking at every corner, and it convinced her that the chance of her encountering a demon again wasn’t that big. Some people went their whole life without meeting a demon, she just hadn't been that lucky. But she still refused to be a victim again if she ever encountered one again. It was a slim chance, she knew that now, but it was still there and she could do something to be ready, so she was still gonna do that. She would still be in the bunker until she knew she was ready to face her everyday life again. 

All of this, made her thoughts unconsciously wander to Dean. Chewing on her lower lip, she quickly relived the events of yesterday. 

“Sam?” She started in a low voice. Somehow trying to buy herself some time for what she was going to say. 

“Yes?” The unperturbed and lightness from his voice and face were gone as if he knew she was about to tell him something important. Like he had a sixth sense about that stuff. 

“Um, Dean, he… he needs you. He… he’s hurt. And he needs somebody.” Reed looked at her hands fidgeting with a loose thread on her sweatpants the whole time she talked. It was a little difficult to get the words out, but she surprised herself by saying it. 

Sam let out a heavy sigh and Reed dared to take a look at him. He didn’t look at her, just looked at the dark street lit by the headlights of the Thunderbird in front of him. “If Dean doesn’t want help, I can’t give it to him. He shuts people out until he’s ready. And when he is, Cass and I are gonna be there for him. He’ll come around. He just needs some time. If I tried to butt in, he’d just wind up further away.” Sam paused between every sentence like he needed time to formulate every sentence so that she would understand. 

“Okay.” She simply said. There wasn’t doubt to trace in her voice – she understood. Sam didn’t seem like the kind of guy that didn’t care. He cared so much. But she found comfort in the fact that Sam would be there when Dean was ready. Though the most reasonable for her was to intervene, but Sam did know him best, so she trusted his judgment. 

 

Sam walked Reed to her room as it was on the way to his own. 

“Thanks for today,” Reed said sincerely as she hugged him. She had to stand on her toes to reach him even when he bowed down. 

“Don’t mention it.” He simply said as he returned her embrace before saying goodnight and they parted ways. 

Though it was over nine, Reed didn’t felt tired, so she decided to read a little until her eyelids felt heavy and she turned off the light. But lying there in the darkness made the tiredness go away and she had to turn the lamp on the nightstand on again. She had been afraid of the dark as a child, but as she grew up, she convinced herself that there was nothing to be afraid of in the dark. Now she knew better. There was so much to be scared of. It haunted her dreams…

Wait… 

Reed’s eyes flew open as she realized something. Last night… last night she didn’t have a single nightmare. She had slept like a baby. 

The rational side of her tried to blame it on the alcohol. That she had been so drunk, she was out as a light. But a little piece of her doubted that statement. Just a little seed of doubt was enough that she, after half an hour of speculating, was ready to put her theory into practice. Honestly, she didn’t need much convincing to try out a theory that might relieve her from her nightmares. 

 

Dean had put on an old album of Metallica while he sipped the scotch. He hadn't noticed yet, but he hadn't drunk as much today as he usually did. He was trying to numb his mind while humming to the guitar solos and lowly singing along. Just let the music in and tune the feelings, the rest of himself and his shit, out. The scotch made it easier for every sip. 

Around midnight someone knocked on the door. First, Dean looked confused at the clock and then mid-trying-to-hide-the-alcohol-under-the-bed, the door was opened. Before even seeing who it was, he tried to cover the failed attempt to conceal the scotch by placing it on the nightstand, and looked up while trying his best to look sober in case it was Sam. But it wasn’t. In the door stood Reed, clutching her duvet and pillow in her arms. 

Instantly, Dean’s brow furrowed. He couldn’t find a single reason why she would stand there, looking so indecisive while biting her lower lip. 

“I didn’t have any nightmares last night.” She said with a shrug. Her blue eyes dropped from his as she said it but now found his green eyes again. 

“Okay?” His confusion deepened along with his furrowed forehead. He narrowed his eyes as he tried to figure out how her statement matched the pillow and duvet in her arms. But before he could find an answer, Reed closed the door and laid down on the bed next to him without an invitation. 

Even more perplexed Dean scooted further to the left to make room for her. 

“Goodnight.” She simply said as if nothing about this was unusual. 

“Uh, goodnight,” He said with a raised eyebrow, still looking confused at her while she made herself comfortable and closed her eyes with a deep sigh. 

_What the…_ he stopped his own thoughts when he remembered this morning. Though he still felt like he missed a few pieces of a bigger puzzle, he didn’t ask any questions. He took one last sip of the scotch before turning off the music, scooted down to lie flat on his back, and stared at the ceiling. He didn’t know what else to do. Reed had completely caught him off guard and now he didn’t know what to do, so he just listened to her breathing and thought about what could possibly make her wanna sleep next to him. 

He didn’t find any answers to his questions, but at some point, Reed’s breathing became heavier, letting him know she was asleep even though her back was turned toward him. Carefully, without waking her, Dean turned to his side and put his arm around her. 

Her presence soothed something inside of him and after some time, he fell asleep instead of drinking himself to sleep.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't forget the LNE giveaway on my FB, ending the 5th February. You can enter 100% anonymously :-D  
> Link [here](https://m.facebook.com/story.php?story_fbid=549335612083185&id=429847084032039&hc_location=ufi)  
> 

Over the next two weeks, Dean got more sleep for every night and less alcohol for every day. Some of the alcohol had been replaced by sleeping next to Reed. Still, unsure of how it worked, he pushed the speculation and trying to solve the equation aside and just accepted it without fully comprehending it. The pain and steel robes still crushed him during the day, and often, the bottle was put to his lips but sometimes stopped before the golden liquid could pour down his throat. Only because of the promise of Reed coming later to relieve it just a bit. Just enough for him to survive, just enough for him to dull the thoughts and conviction that he didn’t deserve to live. 

At first, her presence wasn’t as effective as the alcohol. Sometimes, he would take a few sips after she had fallen asleep, but slowly, it gained strength. He couldn’t feel it from day to day, but in the last two weeks, something had happened clearly enough for him to notice and not wonder if it was something he had made up in his drunken haze of a mind. 

Though they had slept in the same bed every night for 14 days, their interaction hadn't grown much more than the short window of time from when he had asked her to end it to the first night they slept together. The reason was that every morning, Reed, her pillow, and duvet was gone when he woke, which was earlier and earlier. Late at night, she knocked on his door, but walked in and laid down without an invitation or as much as a ‘come in.’ Most nights, she fell asleep within half an hour, exhausted from her training. 

Cass still hadn't made an appearance since Dean had made him leave by hurting him deeply. What he did still gnawed in his stomach, but he didn’t know how to fix it, so he didn’t call on him. He didn’t know what to say to undo the hurt he had caused him. 

With Sam, he still kept his distance. Though his alcohol consumption had lowered, he still couldn’t make it through the day without. Still, he was only capable of showering and pretending to eat to keep his brother somehow at bay. He wasn’t ready to face him and all his forgiveness toward him when he still didn’t deserve it. Perhaps he would never deserve it. 

A knock on the door tore Dean out of his gloomy thoughts. “Come in.” It could only be Sam because Reed didn’t wait for an invitation to come in. In the few seconds he had, he feigned a more composed, collected expression, while quickly rubbing his eyes, hoping he would appear fresher than he felt. 

“Hi,” Sam greeted as he opened the door. Inconspicuously, his eyes swept over Dean and then his room. Dean only noticed because he knew him so well. “So, I need to go deal with a minor situation for a day or two.” The reluctance and dancing around the specifics of his ‘need to go situation’ was prominent in his voice. It was clear to see his eyes wanted to flicker, but he stubbornly met Dean’s gaze unwaveringly. 

“Okay. We’ll be fine.” Dean shrugged, but a sharp pang hit him in the chest. Guilt over the fact that Sam felt the need to partially hide things from him in order to not make him feel more bad about not being able to be back in the game. And jealousy over the fact that he wasn’t capable of being what he once was. A savior. A slight annoyance with Sam over not just saying things as they were. He wasn’t a frail creature that needed to be protected from the harsh truth that he was far off the rails. He knew that, so there was no point in trying to pretend that he wasn’t. 

“Great,” Sam said with faked cheerfulness. “I’ll be back tomorrow or the day after that. I’ll text you.” 

Dean only responded with a nod and a low, “Yeah, okay.” But then the annoyance grew in him. Maybe because he was reminded of what he was reduced to. “Vampires again?” He couldn’t hold his tongue as Sam was about to close the door. 

The door stopped from closing. Sam bowed his head and for a moment, indecisiveness crossed his face, but then he clenched his jaw and unclenched it with a sigh as he reached the decision of telling the truth. “A demon, actually. I haven’t told Reed. I told her it was a Wendigo. I’m not quite sure she’s ready yet. I would like her to go a few rounds with Cass, but I haven’t heard from him since before the vamp nest.”

“Okay.” Dean nodded noncommittally. A billow of relief touched his mind at Sam’s decision to keep it from Reed. It wouldn’t help her confidence to be told straight up again that she wasn’t ready. “See ya,” He continued shortly after, expecting Sam to go. 

“Have you heard from him since then?” His brother asked hesitatingly as if he knew to step warily around the subject. 

“No, I haven’t.” The guilt flooded him, as he knew exactly why neither of them had heard from Cass. And the blame was solely on Dean. 

“Okay. See you in a couple of days.” Sam said automatically, though the little furrow he saw on his brow before he closed the door, told him that Sam had a suspicion that Dean knew more than he led on. Perhaps it was because he knew him so well, so he could see past some parts of the façade that he was trying to keep up.

A part of him wished to get back to his normal life, but deep down he knew it wasn’t going to be anywhere in the near future if he ever could be able to go back. Maybe this was what retired him. Not a physical injury, but a mental wound so big it would never close. 

 

Compared to last time where Sam left, Reed was relieved that none of the anxiousness or uneasiness came to occupy her. Hoping, she was on her way to detach herself from her security blanket. 

_Blankets._ Her consciousness reminded her. Without wanting to, her mind found the groove it had been in so many times over the past two weeks. Something she had never expected to happen, something she had never seen coming was happening. Dean had become more of a security blanket than Sam had ever been. Sam promised physical safeness. Dean provided mental safeness. Though she was reluctant to admit it. But every night when she tried to sleep, it felt like the walls were closing in on her, threatening with what lurked in the darkness. And even when the light was on, there was still shadowy corners of her room where anything could happen. Her own room had become her enemy instead of the hatred she had felt. A deep loathing for demons had its root deeply planted in her. So deep, it could never be undone. But the red-hot hatred for Dean had diminished to something smaller than she ever thought possible and replaced with a worry for him and a compassion so wide she never knew she possessed. 

So every night, she would get up from her bed after failing miserably at finding sleep, and sneak to Dean’s room where she could sleep soundly. Even in darkness. The nightmares didn’t haunt her every night, but they weren’t cured. They were still there, but they were less nerve-racking and more distinguishable from reality. They stayed in the dream sector, meaning she would calm down faster after waking. It was easier to overcome because it was just a nightmare. A nightmare that had changed form and shape. The nature of the nightmare was still the same, but somewhere in the past two weeks, the face of her attacker had become blurred and then faded. It wasn’t Dean anymore. Now, it was an amorphous figure that hurt her. She didn’t want to speculate too much about it, but she couldn’t help the wonder from intruding her mind now and then. During the day, she kept herself busy. All the time from the crack of dawn. She could make holy water and recite the demon exorcise by heart, and she became better and better at wielding her angel blade. Enough for her to make Sam up his game against her, and two times, she had got the upper hand and brought him in checkmate. 

As her technique grew, her self-doubt and self-recrimination dwindled. But with it, rose a patience. A patience that allowed her to relax a bit, to not be in a rush to get out there and prove that she could take care of herself. She placed her complete trust in Sam’s hands to assess when she was ready. 

 

The next day in the late afternoon, Reed explored the fridge. As Sam wasn’t home, she would make dinner. Yesterday, there had been some leftovers. She had a craving for chicken enchiladas, but that would require grocery shopping. Well, so be it. She had barely been outside since her and Sam had their ‘normal’ day with eating out and going to the movies. So she didn’t see this small trip as a chore or something necessary, but more like a small break and a chance to fill her lungs with free, fresh air. 

With the keys to the Thunderbird, she walked into the garage but immediately skidded to a halt as soon as she opened the door. Seven feet from her stood Dean buried under the hood of the black Chevrolet. A small gasp of surprise skipped her lips, but loud enough to startle Dean, making him bang his head into the open hood. 

“Ouch!” He exclaimed and shot her a disapproving look that quickly faded as he rubbed the top of his head. 

“Sorry,” She apologized instantly, “I just didn’t expect anyone to be out here.” Throughout the sentence, her voice became more unsure as she struggled to formulate the words as she went on, hoping she found the right ones to avoid a misinterpretation of her statement. 

“It’s fine.” He dismissed her gently with a hand gesture and continued whatever he was doing under the hood. 

At first sight, it didn’t look like he had been at it for long, though his hands were already dirty. But she eyed the unopened bottle of scotch pushed halfway under the car. The amounts of alcohol he consumed worried her, but she remembered Sam’s words. 

_“If Dean doesn’t want help, I can’t give it to him. He shuts people out until he’s ready. And when he is, Cass and I are gonna be there for him. He’ll come around. He just needs some time. If I tried to butt in, he’d just wind up further away.”_

In order to avoid him wounding up further away, she hadn't said a word about the booze since they got drunk together. Though her concern for him grew itself deeper into her for every day. She knew Sam and Dean had been a team before he became a demon. But that reality was so far away, she had a hard time picturing it. When she looked at him, she couldn’t see his shining armor, swooping in to save people as she could with Sam. All she saw was a veteran that had been diminished to a broken man, trying to drown it all. But the fact that he was up and about, actually doing something other than keeping himself above water, lightened the gnawing in her. She hoped it was an improvement and not just a temporary whiff of productiveness. 

As her nightmares had changed and fazed Dean out, a genuine care had blossomed. The same kind of care she felt for Sam. Whatever in him that had made her perceive him as a threat and terrified her into her core, was dissolved as she got to know him and saw his deep-felt remorse. 

“Um, can I help with something?” She asked irresolutely. Somehow, she wanted to encourage him being out of his room, but she didn’t know jack about engines. 

Shortly, Dean peeked up from under the hood. A frown crossed his face as if he suspected her of an ulterior motive. The same look she had seen him send Sam when he asked slightly more probing questions, simultaneously while trying to think of something she actually could help with. 

“Uh, there should be a wrench on that shelf. About this big.” He held up his fingers to show the size after pointing to a shelf system filled with tools and parts. 

Reed gave a small nod before exploring the shelves. Two times, she held up a wrench, asking if that was it, but it wasn’t until the third time that Dean said, “Yup, that one.”

After handing it to him, they stood in silence for a few minutes as he worked and she watched. Apparently, he couldn’t come up with something for her to do, and they both couldn’t get a conversation off the ground. In the past two weeks, they haven’t really talked that much. The most used conversation was exchanging a ‘goodnight.’ They had just been there for each other on some subconscious level while they slept. 

“It was my dad’s.” Dean quietly said. “The car.” He quickly added as he saw her puzzled face at the corner of his eye. 

Almost twenty minutes had passed where the only thing said was Dean asking her to retrieve a bottle of oil and a pack with spark plugs. So when he finally spoke directly to her instead of asking her to get something, she was tongue-tied for a few moments. Her mind hadn't been prepared for something that required a response, she had simply been there as a silent support, completely forgetting about why she initially had walked into the garage. 

“Okay.” She simply said with an understanding nod. Sam had told her their dad died some years ago. She didn’t know how or anything about him really, other than he meant a lot to them. And now that she paid attention, she could see Dean handling the engine carefully, almost graciously in the same way as when Sam turned the pages in their dad’s journal. 

Even though Reed hadn't asked, Dean elaborated his initial statement as if he thought she didn’t understand it fully or maybe he just felt like explaining. “She’s my baby. Though I’ve neglected her for… some time now.”

“How come?” Reed asked quietly after a few seconds. She didn’t want to butt in. From the way he talked about the car, she got the feeling that it was a sensitive, maybe even private reason or memory. 

As soon as she had spoken the words, she wished she hadn't. He stopped what he was doing, placed his hands on the edge of the open hood, and leaned his weight on them as if seeking more than physical support. For a few seconds, he closed his eyes. It looked like he relived a precious moment. 

With a sigh, he raised his head and swallowed loudly before he spoke in low tones, “When I… was a demon,” His words faltered him and it was easy to see he had a hard time talking about his time as a demon. As he straightened his shoulders a bit, he collected himself and continued, “She didn’t have any value to me. She was just a car. Nothing special.” As he confessed, he seemed almost ashamed of admitting it. Reed thought she saw a hint of resentment directed inwardly because of the way he thought as a demon. But now, as human, there was a passion in his voice as he spoke of the car like it was a beloved pet. 

His confession hit Reed harder than she thought possible. Behind all the demon experiences, the hunting, and the now broken and beaten man was hundreds of facets of a personality. He wasn’t just a post-demon, he wasn’t just an alcoholic, he wasn’t just broken. There were so much more underneath when you scratched the surface. Maybe demon-Dean and human-Dean was more different than she had ever wanted to acknowledge. Or believe. 

“You love it.” She breathed as the extent of his care towards his father’s car dawned completely on her. “Her.” She corrected herself as she remembered him talking about the car as a pronoun.

“Yes, I do.” He admitted and let out a sigh, as he felt guilty for neglecting her. “My first love.” He added. As he turned to face Reed, there was a hint of a smile playing around the corners of his lips, but before she could be completely sure that it was a genuine smile, he returned his attention to the open hood and it was gone. 

Letting her eyes wander over the car, she saw it with new eyes. Saw it as a treasured possession and not just an object or means of transport. She remembered when she was about to go on her unbelievably stupid demon hunting by herself. The keys that had hung first had been to the Impala. It wouldn’t start, and now she was somehow glad that it hadn't. Like she had violated something precious just by sitting in it without permission or knowledge about how valuable it was, even if that was ‘only’ sentimental value. 

As her eyes swept over the old but meticulously maintained car, she noticed how dirty it actually was. It had mud splashes from the wheels, bugs on the front and windshield, and a thick layer of dust on top of it all, making it look like the black paint had faded to a duller dark grey. Didn’t she see a bottle of car shampoo and rim cleaner on one of the shelves? Letting her eyes sweep the shelf system, she quickly eyed it. Without a word, she left the garage. When she came back a few minutes later, she had a bucket filled with lukewarm water and a washcloth. 

She had just poured the shampoo in the bucket and wrung up the cloth when Dean spoke, “That’s really sweet of you, and I don’t wanna sound ungrateful, but you need a bucket of clean water, too. Otherwise, you’re just pushing the dirt around and scratch the paint and the rims.” It was clear he tried not to hurt her feelings. 

“Oh, sorry.” The cloth in her hand had stopped mid-air when he began speaking to her. Now, she put it in the bucket and left the garage again to retrieve another bucket of clean water. She always just took her own car to an automatic drive-thru car wash. The only one who had ever hand washed it was her father. It was something he often did when she visited. He hated car washes. She could just hear him before her ears, _“It leaves scratches in a car's finish. It doesn’t clean it properly. You can do it better and cheaper yourself.”_

As she went on, Dean gave her a few pointers, but besides that, they didn’t talk. They could coexist, even be there for each other, but silently without too much interaction. As if they didn’t know how to be around each other after what happened, not that any of them held any grudges, but there was always this almost awkward dance where they didn’t know what to say or do. Everyday small talk seemed imitated and transparent compared to their history, but they didn’t seem to be able to dive into the heavier topics, except that one night where they got drunk. 

 

“Do you wanna fire it up for me?” Dean asked absentmindedly as he fastened the last bolt. 

“Yeah, sure.” Reed had finished washing the car from end to end, only interrupting Dean shortly as she cleaned the front, but he got a much-deserved break. As they progressed, she had noticed a tremor in his hands, and even when he wasn’t doing physically hard work, drops of sweat continued to roll down his temples. For every time she left the garage, she noticed how the bottle under the car was opened and how the liquid disappeared. He had drunk a quarter of it already. 

Now that she knew the background story about the Impala, she felt privileged to get to help. 

As she turned the key, the car cranked, but the revolutions were dwindling by the second as the battery was nearly drained. Dean signaled to her to stop. 

“Would you get the keys to the Thunderbird?” He asked as he was already rummaging around on the shelf, probably looking for jumper cables. 

She left the garage with a, “Sure,” and returned shortly after, driving the Thunderbird in front of the Impala, so Dean could hook it up. 

“Okay, try again.” He instructed after placing the last cable. As she turned the key, the car cranked, but quickly the revolutions rose until the engine roared to life. Just in idle you could hear the power of the engine as it rumbled steadily but forcefully. 

As he closed the hood, Reed caught a glimpse of a smile crossing his lips, and she was surprised by how she felt a smile spread across her own lips just by seeing it. 

After cleaning up, putting the tools back in their place, and driving the Thunderbird back to its place Reed looked at the clock. “Is it nine already?” She exclaimed astounded as she looked at her phone. The afternoon and evening had passed by so fast she didn’t realize how late it was. 

“Apparently,” Dean noted as he looked at his own phone. A small frown appeared as if he was a bit perplexed to why it mattered so much. “Why is that so bad?” His head tilted slightly as he asked the question. 

“I…” Reed paused as she tried to understand why her initial plan had eluded her mind. “I actually came out here to go grocery shopping. There’s practically nothing in the fridge.” She made a resigned gesture with her hands. It was too late now. It would be at least eleven before she was done shopping and cooking. 

“Why don’t you just get pizza?” Dean suggested with a raised eyebrow. 

“And say I want pizzas delivered to a bunker?” Sarcasm colored her voice. 

“I didn’t say ‘order,’ I said ‘get pizzas.’” He noted dryly. 

“Where’s the nearest pizzeria?” Reed inquired with a slightly annoyed gesture. 

Dean let out a resigned sigh. “Get in, I’ll take you.” 

“Uh, okay. Thanks.” She stammered with a furrowed forehead. Perplexed by why he didn’t just give her the directions. 

The drive over there was short but silent. On the way, Reed noticed a detail as she contemplated the last few hour’s events. At first, she hadn't noticed the ‘you’ in ‘why don’t _you_ get pizza.’ Not _we_. Now that she thought about it, she hadn't seen Dean eat at all. She had often shared several meals with Sam, but Dean always took it to his room. In the beginning, she was just glad he left her alone. Now, she found it more and more odd. Looking at him, really scrutinizing, she noticed his jaw and cheekbones stood more out than when she had first met him. It was hard to judge the exact size of his body as none of his t-shirt, flannels, or jeans were that tight. 

“You want something?” She asked as she was about to get out of the car in the pizzerias parking lot. 

“No, it’s okay.” He quickly dismissed her, but it was gently. 

As she looked at the menu, she decided to order one for him too. Maybe he would eat it if it were served to him. Maybe he said no because he didn’t want to burden her or be any trouble or something. 

“You’re hungry,” Dean stated with a raised eyebrow as he noticed the two pizzas as she got in the car. 

“One for you,” She said sternly as she pointed on the boxes. 

For a moment, he clenched his jaw, but then let out an exasperated sigh as he started the car. 

“It’s just pizza,” Reed mumbled quietly halfway back to the bunker. 

“Yeah,” He let out the word along with another exasperated sigh. His hands clutched harder onto the wheel. 

When they parked in the garage, Reed nearly shoved the pizza box into his hands before heading for the door to the bunker. 

“Reed?” He called tentatively after her. As she stopped in her tracks and turned around, he continued, “Thank you for your help today.” His green eyes flickered shortly towards hers, but mostly they were fixated on the pizza box in his hands. 

“No problem.” She shrugged but felt the truth of the words as she spoke them. Somehow, she was just glad she could be of help. 

She had just laid her hand on the door handle when Dean spoke again, “See you tonight?” There was a sprout of hope in his otherwise hesitant tone. 

Shortly, Reed eyed him, unsure what to do. It wasn’t planned, at all. It just happened. Every night, she tried to convince herself that this was the night she would sleep alone, but she always wound up in his room. It wasn’t something they agreed on. Though it had been consistent, it wasn’t planned. 

The longer she waited with answering, the more she saw the disappointment, and regret of asking, unfold in his eyes. After biting her lower lip for a few moments, she released it from her teeth and nodded with a quiet, “Sure.”


	17. Chapter 17

After taking a shower, as Reed felt like the smell of the car shampoo had been absorbed into her skin, she put on her top and sweatpants much more slowly than usual. For some reason, she was a little on edge about tonight. Nothing would be different from the last two weeks, but somehow it made a difference to her that this night, it was planned. She didn’t know why, or maybe she was putting too much into it. In the back of her head, she knew that she would probably end up there anyway. Perhaps the thing that really bothered her was the expectations she had given Dean. Wasn’t sure if it was good or bad, but they both needed to detach from their codependence. Not right now, but at some point. She couldn’t stay here forever. Her life, her family, her job, her friends waited for her. Out in the real world. 

Shaking her head, she pushed it all aside. She didn’t have to go back yet. Not before she was ready. In her head, she was already planning to tell her family about a ‘sudden need for vacation’ after her supposed super busy business trip. 

In front of Dean’s door, she hesitated for a few moments before knocking, something she hadn't done since the first night. Without waiting for an answer, she opened the door. As she walked to the bed, Dean sent her a small tentative smile. Something, he hadn't done before. 

“Goodnight,” She said as she crawled under the duvet on the right side of the bed with her back towards him, and closed her eyes.

“Goodnight,” He whispered, but kept sitting on the edge of the bed with his back turned toward her. Though he tried to do it silently, Reed heard how he fished out a bottle from under the bed, screwed off the cap, and took a swig. 

After three mouthfuls, she sighed internally. 

At the eleventh swig, she decided enough was enough. This wasn’t the usual tempo of drinking, even for Dean. Instantly, she knew the deeper reason. Sitting up, she quickly grabbed the bottle of scotch from his hand. 

“Hey! What the–” His disapproving outburst stopped as Reed put the bottle to her lips and swallowed a mouthful of the golden liquid. The second it left her lips, she coughed. It burned all the way down her throat and left a bitter, slightly smoked wood taste in her mouth. An uncomfortable shiver from the strong taste coursed through her. “If you’re gonna drink yourself to hell just because Sam isn’t home, I’m drinking with you.” She determined pointed the bottle at him. At the word ‘hell,’ she thought she saw him flinch, but wasn’t sure as he looked down, avoiding her gaze. Clearly annoyed that he so easily got caught. He might think that she didn’t care because she didn’t say anything about the drinking, but she didn’t condone it, at all. It wasn’t healthy. For every time he put his lips to that bottle, he took another step back in his recovery. He might not feel it that way, but that was the truth. All that booze kept him down the rabbit hole. 

Taking another mouthful, it resulted in the same reaction from her body as the first. “Ugh, that’s disgusting.” She coughed and handled the bottle back to him. 

The bottle hung in the air between them for a couple of seconds before Dean rolled his eyes, sighed, and took another bottle from under the bed. 

With a doubting look at the bottle in her hand, she scoffed. As if she was drinking that whole bottle alone, but Dean didn’t seem like he was in the mood to share. Then so be it. He still sat on the edge of the bed with his back toward her. Though he had turned his head and upper body to face her as she talked to him, now he turned his back to her again. 

A few minutes later, it seemed like Dean didn’t felt the need to partially hide his drinking and laid down next to Reed. Almost as if he accepted her as a drinking buddy. Even though they both had drunk of Reed’s bottle, Dean was already ahead with his where he at least had drunk an inch more of his bottle than she had of hers. 

Peeking at him at the corner of her eye, she saw how tired he looked as he just laid there and stared at the ceiling. Letting out a sigh, she stared at it too. “So, are we just gonna lie here and stare at the ceiling or are you gonna put some music on so I’m not deafened by the silence?” 

Dean rolled his eyes again, found his phone, and put something on. A few seconds later, some rock band, she didn’t know, began playing through the speakers. 

“This is what’s going on when I’m sleeping, then?” She asked. A hint of sarcasm was still to trace in her voice from her last comment. 

“Yeah. And sometimes I just stare at you sleeping for an hour or two.” Dean shrugged and drank. 

“What?” Reed exclaimed, feeling her eyes widen as a deep frown appeared on her face. Suddenly, sitting ramrod straight on the bed. 

“Just kidding.” He let out a soft chuckle. A lopsided smile continued to linger on his lips as Reed leaned her back against the pillow again, clearly relieved. 

“Really got you there, huh?” His tone was hesitant, almost like he felt awkward in this situation they were in. Like he didn’t know if it was okay to joke with her. 

“Yeah,” Reed couldn’t help but chuckle as she started fidgeting with the label on the bottle, slowly peeling it off in small pieces. 

Eight songs, she still didn’t know, played where neither of them said anything or looked at anything else than their bottles. Reed had completely peeled off the label on the bottle and the label on the neck too. Now, she was fidgeting with the small metal ring left on the bottleneck from the cap. The effect of the alcohol touched her lightly. Not that she really felt drunk, but she could feel it was too much to drive safely. She hadn't drunk even a quarter of what Dean had drunk, but they seemed to be at the same level of inebriation. Probably because he had built up one hell of a tolerance since he became human. 

“I wasn’t sure you’d come,” Dean admitted with a shrug. 

“I promised.” Reed shrugged, too. At the corner of her eye, she saw him nod noncommittally. A few seconds later, he turned down to music so it was only a buzz in the background. She waited for him to say something, as the turn down of the music indicated, but not a word left him.

Internally, she shrugged. She hadn't kept herself awake so they could talk, she was just there as a silent support. Hoping her conscious presence could prevent him from drinking himself half to death. That was an exaggeration. Hoping it could prevent him from drinking on a bigger scale that would send him one foot too far down the hole. He had been there on that ledge before. She didn’t know how close he still was to it or if he were nowhere near it. But better be safe than sorry. Especially now where Sam wasn’t around the corner. 

Her mind kept wandering. Somehow trying to figure out some kind of scale as to where she could measure, but she kept ending up emptyhanded. Fumbling around in blindness. 

“I need to apologize to Cass.” Dean interrupted her straying mind, so at first, she didn’t comprehend what he had said. It only took a few moments for her mind to catch up to speed, and she noticed the contrition hiding under his almost stoic features. 

“Why?” She asked, hoping her response seemed casual, though she was curious. Curious as to why he was telling her and not Sam, and also why he felt like he needed to apologize. Though the latter wasn’t as pressing. 

“Because I hurt him.” A pained frown crossed his forehead when he quietly said the words. 

“Hurt him?” Reed turned her head to really look at him for the first time. Instantly afraid that he had kicked his ass and that that was why she hadn't seen Cass around lately. 

“Not… physically.” Dean raised an annoyed eyebrow as he pushed the words out. 

She realized that this was the reason why he had turned the music down, and it dawned on her how hard it was for him to talk about. How hard it was for him to open up to her. 

“Oh, okay. Uh, why’re you telling me this?” Still perplexed that he told her instead of someone who was obviously closer to him. Sam. Or Cass himself. 

“I can't tell anyone else.” He whispered and the annoyance was replaced by the pained frown as he clenched his jaw. 

“What about Sam?” Hoping she had conquered up the most supporting tone without dismissing him. Not that she didn’t want him to tell her, she just didn’t think she was the best candidate for this conversation. Or confession. 

“Sam,” He said his name as a scoff, “He’ll just be all over me with his cheering and optimistic sight on life. I feel… smothered around him. It doesn’t take more than a look and I feel it. Feel him hovering.” 

Her blue eyes dropped from his face. He hadn't met her gaze at any point, but now she wouldn’t risk it. Without knowing what to say, she bit her lip. On some level, she got what he meant, she just didn’t see Sam’s support in such a negative way. To her, it looked like Sam could handle any curve ball thrown at him, physically and emotionally. So it surprised her how Dean viewed him. 

Before she had even thought of a response, Dean continued, “Almost the same with Cass. But you don’t. You’re just here. Not judging, not trying to fix me.” At the last five words, he clenched his jaw so hard he pushed the words out through his teeth. “Or at least not that I know of.” His jaw had unclenched and now he sat with furrowed brows instead. Quickly, he took a few sips of the scotch like he wanted to calm his nerves. 

Again, Dean beat her to it before she was even close to coming up with a proper response, “You say you know that this,” he held up the bottle and shook it lightly, “is because of Sam. But you don’t ask why. You’re just here. I… like that.” He said the last tryingly as if testing the designation to be sure that was really how he felt. 

Reed remained quiet while stealing a few fleeting gazes at him now and then. Dean didn’t seem to take her silence as either a confirmation or a denial. 

She didn’t know what to do with all this information he had just given her. Didn’t know if that was what she really did, didn’t know him well enough to know what would comfort him or encourage him. Didn’t know what was the truth or what was not. And she certainly didn’t know that she had this effect on him. 

“Why don’t you apologize to Cass now?” She released her lower lip from her teeth long enough to utter her question, the only thing she could think of saying. 

“Now? No.” Dean shook his head to underline his last word. Suddenly, the pained furrow of his eyebrows turned to an angrier pose. 

“Why not?” Mimicking his furrowed brow, but in confusion instead. 

“Because I’m drunk.” He answered in a determined tone that closed the subject. On his behalf at least. 

Reed let out a disapproving scoff that almost echoed in the silence that followed. To her, it was just a stupid excuse. Perhaps it was better to apologize to Cass in his drunk state because it seemed like he was more ‘sharing’ the drunker he was. And as if to further underline it, Dean took two big sips.

Then she thought of the next best thing, “Then rehearse on me.” She suggested determinedly, clearly stating that this wasn’t just a request or a sweet offer. 

“What?” He asked baffled, but she could see he wasn’t as perplexed as he tried to sound. 

“Pretend that I’m Cass?” She encouraged a little gentler. 

Now it was Dean’s turn to scoff and turned his head away in a silent rejection. His jaw worked hard in clenching and unclenching his teeth. 

With an internal sigh, Reed thought of another approach that wasn’t as head-on, “What was the last thing you said to him?” Her tone was softer now, but a hurt and sad look crossed his face that almost made her regret asking. 

His jaw unclenched and he sighed as he turned his head to the bottle in front of him instead of away from her. A small gesture of surrender. “I don’t need you.” He whispered. 

“When was this?” She prompted gently. 

Dean let out a deep sigh like he let out a lifetime of burden, “Last time Sam was gone. It was just after… you threw a bowl of water in my face.” An imperceptible smile tugged at his lips at the memory. 

“Sorry.” Reed bowed her head as she suppressed a shiver. She wasn’t fond of the memory, but it seemed like a lifetime ago. She also remembered something else from that episode, but she pushed it aside – for now. To further dampen the thoughts, she drank. 

“I deserved it.” Dean chuckled softly and dismissed her apology, though his chuckle sounded hollow. As it died, he continued, “But he came here after, saying he heard yelling. I… I couldn’t handle him almost interrogating me, so I told him to get his feathery ass back where it belongs.” 

Reed looked up at him at the strange expression only to find him pointing up at the ceiling to indicate heaven. Already knowing she would only see the ceiling, her eyes followed his finger anyway. Now a smile tugged at her lips. “I hadn't picked him for the sensitive type.” She admitted, still smiling. 

“He isn’t. That wasn’t all I said.” Dean’s lips had mirrored hers, but now the smile faded. 

“What else? You know you can tell me, right? Does Sam even know this?” Maybe it was the alcohol talking. They had both taken sips now and then through their conversation. Or maybe they were just so deep into this one that it was actually true, alcohol or no alcohol. 

“No.” It was clear he responded to the last question. 

“I won't tell Sam anything you say.” She told him genuinely. Her hand inched closer to his on the bed, making them touch without holding hands. 

“Get the fuck out of here. I can’t even stand looking at you.” He said the words nearly unfazed. For a moment, Reed thought he talked directly to her, but then it became clear that that was what he had said to Cass. The way he said it was too rehearsed as if he had gone over the fight a thousand times in his head. She stopped her hand from moving away from his at the last second. 

“Is what I said.” Dean cleared up just to be on the safe side before he continued, “Amongst other things. But those three sentences, including ‘I don’t need you,’ are probably the worst. I understand why he stays away.” Dean scoffed at himself and put the bottle to his lips for several seconds. 

“Or maybe he’s waiting for you to be ready to talk to him again.” She suggested softly.

“Maybe you’re right.” He said with a shrug and put the bottle to his lips again, but he didn’t seem to believe her completely. 

“Will you promise me something?” Reed asked after a few moments of silence. 

“Depends.” Dean narrowed his eyes, as he looked at her, already suspicious. 

“Call Cass tomorrow, okay?” Her fingers snaked around his and gave them a light squeeze as he scrutinized her, dubiously. 

She could see the inner conflict he was having as his jaw clenched and unclenched. Then he sighed, “Okay.” 

“Thank you.” She whispered earnestly and gave his hand another squeeze.


End file.
